


Seventeen Seconds

by WyldRabbit



Category: Stephanie Plum - Janet Evanovich
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 183,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4541919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyldRabbit/pseuds/WyldRabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Vinnie's bond building burns down,Stephanie is faced with numerous obstacles that lead to a life changing event that rolls her life and her career in a new direction, and with all new meanings. This is suppose to line up with the 17th book of Janet's. I just wanted things to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Chapter 1  
When I was ten years old, my parents took my sister and I camping. To keep us from wandering too far away, my father told us to be careful, Indians still took scalps. I didn't know anything about Native Americans or what they were capable of, but it scared the bejezzus out of me and kept me from running off. I spent the entire vacation terrified that Indians would take me. I hardly slept, and I set up traps. It wasn't until we got home, and I was bragging to my school mates, that I found out just how gullible I could be. My friends never let me forget it either. My whole sense of security dropped out from under me. To this day, I have a trust issue that won't go away. It had been like getting caught with my pants down.  
My name is Stephanie Plum. It would be a lie to say that has changed. I still have trust issues, and sometimes those issues have legs. You may even go as far as to say I now have evolved from worrying about getting caught with my pants down, to it actually happening on more than one occasion.  
I grew up in a small community in Trenton, New Jersey. called Chambersburg. It has sidewalks for kids to roller-skate and parks for couples to take walks. The community is close-knit. Everybody knows everybody, and that can be good and bad. Good when you need information, bad if you are trying to get away with something.  
I live in an apartment built in the 1950's and my bathroom cabinets are probably older than my mother. I have a hamster named Rex, half ownership of a big orange dog-beast named Bob, and from what I'm told, one third of a cop. I am Italian Hungarian. I have unruly brown shoulder length curly hair. Someone once said to me that curly hair is a gift from God, but I think that someone was teasing. I was born with decent genetics, good metabolism, and exceptional hand gestures. The good metabolism is a blessing, at least till age forty-nine. If you don't change your diet by then, you'll blow up like a balloon.  
My job gets me into trouble. I need a paycheck, and that causes problems with my boyfriend, Joseph Morelli. Joe has been in and out of my life since I was six years old. He has movie star good looks, and he is sexy as hell. Growing up, Joe was trouble. I was warned to stay away from him. As an adult, he has mellowed out. He is now the normal one. Domesticated Morelli is still wild on the inside; When he starts to get mad, people move away from him, and fast.  
He works homicide with the Trenton P.D. He was always getting calls about dead guys, and he is afraid that eventually the call he got would be about me. I think that he overreacts, and he thinks I need a different job.  
I am a bounty hunter. Maybe not a great bounty hunter, but it sounded really cool. I needed a job; and I needed the money. I was not about to move back in with my parents because I couldn't pay my rent.  
It was early Friday morning. July in Jersey. Seven AM and the street is already beginning to shimmer with heat. I was up early; I needed to pick up someone today. I had to. I was starving. I could find a different job, according to my mother. I could be supervisor at the personal products factory, but I guess she didn't know that I already worked at the personal products factory. I was doing well till my sweater got stuck in the machine, and it blew up. They had to close down for two weeks while it was fixed. After that, they decided to let me go. Something about being a liability. So for now, working for my cousin, Vinnie is my way of paying bills. Plus, he probably won't fire me. I work on commission, and besides, family is family, right? He can't fire me. Plus, I can bribe with the best of them. Vinnie is one of those strange individuals that have a taste for the exotic ways of life. I know about his kinky fetishes, and his wife doesn't. He would like to keep it that way.  
I am sitting in my new, 20 year old POS Honda Civic, thinking about shoes and things I could buy if I went ahead and did my job. I took a deep breath. "Now or never Stephanie"I said to myself. I decided to sashay over to Paul Banter's less than great apartment building, and let him know that I would love to escort his sorry little butt back to the police station, so he can get re-bonded. It's not a well-known fact to most of the people that I pick up, but that last part about the "re-bonding"? It mostly doesn't happen. The ones that know this are usually harder to catch.  
I picked up my cell phone and called Connie. Connie Rosolli was Vinnie's office manager and front office pit bull. She looks like Betty Boop. If I were to describe her, I would say va-va-voom with stiletto heels. No kiddin' either. Connie is as mob related as you could get. Her family ran with the big dogs, and she married into it. She is two years older than I am and graduated high school with my sister Valarie. She is two inches shorter, and has bigger boobs than most of the women in the burg,me included. Connie wants to do things her way and stay out of the family politics as much as possible. Vinnie's bond office is perfect for her. I asked if she had tried Paul Banter's house phone yet. She said he wasn't answering, but that he had been seen trolling around the park occasionally. He was probably home.  
I glanced through his file. Paul Banter was forty-nine years old. Arrested for assault. Claims it wasn't his fault. Boy, that sounded familiar. I've used that line before. First offense. This should be easy. If I was lucky, really lucky, I could get this taken care of and head on over for some pancakes at Flappy Jacks. My stomach was growling. I was again, without money. My rent was due in a week. My food supply had been reduced to a few crackers, a couple frozen waffles, and a package of Top Ramen. You know you are out of food when you only have one more package of the Ramen. My mother would have kittens if she knew I lived this high on the hog.  
I grabbed the door handle and tried to open the door. It was jammed. The door was stuck, it wouldn't open. I tried again, nothing. Great. I went for the window, pressed the electric lever, nothing happened. I groaned. What kind of car did I buy? I've had this car a week! I was beginning to suspect that this car wasn't owned by a little old lady that only drove it to the market and back. Don't panic, I told myself. Finally, the back window went half way down. Then it stopped. Well, this is a fine mess. Crawling over the middle console, I tried the door on the passenger side. The handle fell off in my hand. I sat there and contemplated my situation. How long could I put up with this? I really liked the Mini Cooper. I also really liked the Jeep, the Subaru, Morelli's SUV, the Porsche, the Sentra, the Mercedes; I even liked the Volkswagen Bug. I can honestly say, I hate this car. If Rockford were real, what would he do? Well, I will tell you what he'd do. He would take the day off. Go back to his place at the beach, park his butt in the nearest lawn chair, and pop open a cold one, because apparently this day was going to suck. Get out while you can.  
I glanced at my watch. People were starting to notice me. Nothing more interesting than a girl who can't get out of her car. Didn't people have lives? Groceries to buy? Jobs to get to? It was getting later, and hotter. I was starting to draw a crowd. A bead of sweat ran down my check. A little hunched over man walked up to the window and tapped on it. I smiled, trying again to open the door. He tried to open the door from the outside. It would not budge. Okay, maybe he could help. He seemed nice. Then he opened his mouth a little too wide and was a little more vocal than I wanted him to be. He started yelling out suggestions on how to get out of the car.  
"Pop the trunk. We will get you outta there!" He shouted. "Put the back seat down, and crawl out that way. Do you want me to call the Fire Department? "  
Another man who I had not seen, joined him on the curb, I could see them debating on how to get me out of the car.  
"Get outta the way, missy." He pulled a Smith and Wesson out of his waistband and aimed. "I can shoot out the window."  
"No!" I yelled back, ducking. "No guns, no shooting! I'm ok. I am just looking for my.." I picked up the first thing I could find "My handle!"  
"That's a fib!" The first man yelled. "You're stuck. Want me to call the Police?"  
I heard a screen door slam and knew I was attracting a larger crowd. Not good, and my skip might see what was happening and leave.  
I furiously shook my head side to side. No! I did not want the Fire or the Police Department to see me stuck in my car. I knew most of them on a first name basis. I was determined not be the conversation piece of the day. I had gone a whole month without that happening. It was a good stretch. I was not blowing it today. This was so embarrassing. I was a sitting duck for ridicule. There were five older gentlemen standing around my car now. One had brought out coffee and toast. I must have parked next to a rest home. Great. I was seriously considering just zapping myself with my stun gun, and hoping that when I woke up, it would be all over. So much for my early attempt at picking up a skip. I kept at the window, willing it to roll down. Next time, no electric windows!  
Finally, the back window went down about three fourths of the way, and I crawled out of the death trap Honda. I was out. I heard applause and whistles from the entire apartment building. I took a deep breath, dusting myself off, and walked to the door of the car, and it opened. Oh. that's it! I thought to myself. When someone finally took this car out, I would be happy. The sooner the better.  
"That was a hoot." One of the original two shouted. "Can you come back tomorrow, and do it again? I could use more entertainment. It gets mighty boring around here. Next time, make sure you wear a shirt that shows off more cleavage."  
Jeez, Really? Finally, everyone went back into the apartment building after they all took turns checking out the mechanics of my car.  
I contemplated just getting back in and driving away. Leaving this for another time, but I was already here. I had already made a scene. I might as well just keep my eye on the prize, take the bull by the horns, and get Banter anyway. Without this capture, Rex would be living at my parents. I guess I would too. I needed to get Paul Banter this morning. He was going down, and then Flappy Jacks. I started thinking that maybe the car wasn't the devil. It was just a fluke. Bad timing. It probably won't even happen again. It was a cute little Civic. The paint was faded maroon. It had a smashed in fender and almost bald tires, but it passed inspection, (just barely). Plus, the price was right.  
I had given my Mini Cooper to the local scrap yard, care of a flatbed truck. Someone had decided that it was not the right color for me; they thought soot black was much more my style. So, until the insurance money came through, a four hundred dollar Honda was a great deal better than Uncle Sander's Buick. The Buick was indestructible, but the Buick was a beast. Hard to maneuver, expensive at the gas pump, and not at all invisible. When I had called my insurance adjuster about the Mini, he said that I was giving him hemorrhoids. His wife was not going to believe that anyone had this much bad luck. His trips out to evaluate damage were getting him in hot water. He suggested I might want to consider buying a tank next time.  
Leaning against the car, I looked again at the apartment building. It was built in the 1980's when Trenton was doing a "Keep your City Beautiful" campaign. Trying to keep "The Garden State" image a reality. A crack house and a sweatshop had been torn down, the lot leveled, and "The Garden Apartments" were built. It worked for about a year. Now, this place was just another big square, where a lot of middle age, low tolerance, small time offenders lived. "The Garden Apartments" had a large actual garden with vegetables and trees when it was established. It also had a couple waterfalls. It eventually gave into its surroundings. The waterfalls were stolen, and the gardens were dug up to make room for a swimming pool. I thought it had been a good idea, just the wrong neighborhood.  
I was dressed right for an apprehension. Black jeans, stretchy halter top, sports bra, and running shoes. My hair was tied up in a pony tail. I had on minimal jewelry and no earrings. Small things like that are important. You don't want someone to get a hold of you by a necklace or tear out your earring during a struggle. I was ready. My hair had cooperated this morning, and I'd only lost a little of my nerve by climbing out of the car window. I had my stun gun in my bag, my mace hooked to my belt, and my handcuffs in my back pocket. I had found a stray bullet in the botton of my pocketbook,so the gun was even loaded. Well, loaded with one bullet. I also had my cell phone just in case the stun gun and the one bullet didn't do the trick. Am I prepared or what? I took the stairs up to Paul Banter's apartment. His door was slightly ajar, His TV was on. He was watching "The Guiding Light". Go figure. Spanish music was playing somewhere down the hall, and I think I smelled cooked onions, and curry mixed in with the ever present rotting food and stale beer. The carpet in the hall was dirty beige. The whole building looked like it was in need of repair and repainting. I rapped loudly on the door and a big hand grabbed it, and flung it open. I hadn't expected him to be waiting right behind it.  
"What?!" He said in a loud boisterous voice.  
I jumped back in surprise. I composed myself quickly. I had this.  
"Paul Banter?"  
"Yeah, what of it?"  
I looked up at the man in front of me. He was a good six foot three, and must have weighed at least three hundred pounds. He looked like he had been lifting refrigerators instead of bar bells since the picture I had of him. I took a deep breath and cleared the fear from my throat, and gave him the spiel.  
"My name is Stephanie Plum, I represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. You didn't show up for your court date. I need to take you in to get re-bonded." I reached over and slapped a cuff on his wrist.  
"What the, hey!"  
I was in no mood to mess around. I took a hold of his other wrist and he was cuffed. Flappy Jacks here I come. I found his keys to lock up his apartment. I proceeded to take hold of the cuffs. I realized then, that he had picked the lock on the cuffs while I was busy thinking I was the bomb. Damn!  
He grabbed my hair and pushed me out of his apartment, and threw my cuffs at me. He screamed, "Loser!" As the door slammed shut. Shit! (At least I got my cuffs back). Paul Banter was not going to get the best of me. I needed to go with plan B. Sometimes my plans went all the way to plan F before something went right. I knocked on his door again, he opened it to say I was a loser and to go away, but I zapped him.  
Ok. So here's the thing. When you zap someone with a stun gun, you have to figure out how in hell you are suppose to get them to the car. Especially from the third floor of an apartment building. I didn't know what Rockford would do in this situation, but I do know what Ranger would do. He always has back up, and he always looked cool. Not only that, but he always makes me want to do things to him that would make an x rated movie look sorta tame.  
Ranger was a problem. He was the other man in my life. His real name was not "Ranger". That was a nickname from his days in the Army. His name was Carlos Manoso. But no one called him that. Ranger just stuck, so he went with it. He was my mentor, and my friend. From the day he had to rescue me from my shower curtain rod, he has been helping me. He was older than me by two months. Six foot of Cuban American goodness. Nothing seemed to phase him. I am not sure he was even human. Sometimes, I think he must be able to read minds, and fly. Maybe Batman. I just wasn't sure D.C. Comics knows their super hero was out wandering around yet.  
Ranger and I spent the night together once, and once was not enough for either of us. I try to keep my distance from him. I loved Joe, and he knew it. I also loved Ranger. He knew that too. He felt the same about me, but he didn't want a relationship, and I needed one. So we kept our distance when it came to sleeping arrangements.  
Joe and I were steadily moving fast forward to a bigger commitment without realizing it was happening. My soap was in his shower, and his razor was in my bathroom. So calling Ranger might not go over so well. I tried hard to handle problems without him. Calling him also would put the fuse in a very confusing problem. I wanted him bad. He knew how I felt, and it made it even more difficult. He was like a cat, and I an unsuspecting mouse. I decided not to call him. I got this one. I would get Paul to the car myself. I wrapped Paul's legs together with some electrical tape, and went to find the super of the building. I bet I could get a handcart and get this mess worked out.  
I found the super working with the pool skimmer.  
"Hi!" I said, flashing him my pearly whites. I looked at his work shirt for a tag. It read "Hester Craig."  
Hester was about five foot six and weighed about thirty pounds less than he should have. I took him to be in his early forties. He had an early stoop that would likely get worse in time. He looked up from the duties of cleaning trash, beer cans and a diaper out of the pool. I guess life could get better for Hester.  
"Can I help you, miss?"  
I brought out my hand and a business card "Stephanie Plum", I said. I shook his hand. It was a cold and wilted kind of handshake that made you want to pull back and wipe your hand on your pants to get rid of the cooties you felt run onto your skin. I tried not to grimace. It was an act of sheer willpower.  
He glanced down at the card and had to bring it up to his nose to read it with a squint. "Stephanie Plum. Apprehension agent? Is that like a bounty hunter?"  
"I represent Vincent Plum Bail Bonds. I have a man I need to pick up (literally) and bring in to get his court date rescheduled. He sort of fell over and passed out." (In layman's terms, I zapped him) "I am wondering if maybe you have a handcart or something like that I could use? He is on the third floor and I can't get him to the car by myself."  
Hester Craig squinted at me sideways. "So I have a tenant who didn't go to court, and they sent you out to fetch him, eh? I know Vinnie, but I didn't know he hires little girls to play bounty hunter. That's kind of a dangerous job for a little thing like you. Why don't you run on home and have some cookies. Leave the man alone. Everyone here pays their rent, they don't need to be bothered by you or anyone else."  
He held the pool skimmer up and leaned on it. Paul Banter was going to be hard to pull down the hall without help.  
"I'll give you twenty bucks if you help me."  
He smiled. "I'll get the cart."  
I guess when all else fails, it is good to know most people can still be bought. I didn't tell him I would have to give him an IOU or Monopoly money when It came down to actually paying him, but I figured I would jump that hurdle when it got here.  
Hester met me at Banter's apartment door. He handed me the cart. Of course I couldn't move him.  
"He is a big fellow, ain't he?"  
I tried picking him up. I pulled him and rolled him over to get him on the cart. Sweat ran down my forehead and my hair was plastered to my face. Hester was no help whatsoever. If he started to come around, I would have to zap him again. I stood there panting, leaning up against the railing. Hester was looking uncomfortable.  
"He is going to wake up. I am not going to be here when he does. Mr. Banter is not a pleasant person. Just drop the handcart off at the office when you're finished."  
Hester Craig walked away quickly. He looked back once, making sure Paul Banter was still out cold. It was time to get the nerve up. Call Ranger's merry men. Grovel for an assist. Ranger was still out of town anyway. The chances of me seeing him were close to nil. I liked nil. Nil was good. Maybe they would not even tell him that they helped me. I only weigh around one-twenty. Ok, maybe one twenty-five. How am I supposed to get The Hulk on a handcart? I am not an ant! Ranger's men were not really merry. It was a joke; and I don't believe they knew about it. I think if they got wind I called them that, it would be harder for them to hear the phone when I called.  
Ranger owned a successful security company. The men he hired were huge muscle bound scary looking people that resembled models for Gold's Gym. They were efficient at what they did, which sometimes meant protecting Ranger. (He had bad people mad at him a lot). They hardly spoke, and they rarely smiled. I never saw them out of uniform. Rangers employees wore black. It probably made color coordination very simple. They liked me, and that was good. I wonder sometimes if I am comedy relief.  
Ranger's team got there in ten. Not only did they get Paul Banter out of the apartment, they got him in my car in less than five minutes, and they were NICE about it too.  
Tank, one of the merries, nodded as I thanked them. "Are you sure you want to take him in that car?" He asked, glancing at the bumper and the balding tires.  
Sheesh..Yes... !  
This morning was turning out to be ok. I was feeling good about being able to buy groceries. I motored over to the police station, pulled into the drop off, and my door wouldn't open. It was stuck again. It was not a fluke. I now knew why this car was so cheap. I think sometime today, I am going to have to have a chat with Darrell or who ever owned the Used Car Emporium.  
I was stuck in my car in front of the police station, and my capture was waking up. Great. I couldn't really stun him with cops watching, either. It is a practice most cops sort of frown upon. Especially since I did not really know if this particular stun gun was legal.  
Eddie Gazarra walked out to meet me. He is married to my cousin Shirley. Also known as Shirley the Whiner, if you grew up in the neighborhood or at least in my family. She complained about anything and everything since she came out of the womb. My mother says she also complained inside the womb so much that her mother had an ulcer while she was pregnant. I had no idea how Eddie put up with her. At family reunions, I chose the furthest seat from her at the table, my grandmother, on the other hand looked forward to sitting next to her. Saved her a seat, usually. She loved to hear her complain, and she egged her on.  
Eddie saw that I couldn't get out of the car. Instead of helping, he went back inside the building and dragged three more of Trenton's finest out to watch. Until this very moment, Eddie had still been on my Christmas list, and one of my very best friends. He had a videophone, and I think he was actually filming me! I already had the back window most of the way down; all I had to do was get back there and climb out before someone called the Fire Department. I didn't want anyone using the Jaws of Life to rescue me from the car from hell. This was not going to ruin my day. I repeated over and over. I put my head back and put my finger to my eye. It was beginning to twitch. This was not going to ruin my day! I was determined.  
I did my best brave idiot smile and climbed into the back seat. Paul Banter was now fully awake. He started cussing and freaking out. He turned his head and he bit me as I was just getting my rear front to back. He bit me! That son of a bitch! I turned, screamed something irrational and kicked him as hard as I could. I missed. Instead kicking the dash, and deploying the airbag. (Good to know the airbag actually worked. Not as intended, but still.) I'm thinking that this life that I had been living seemed more inappropriate all the time. This was one of the worst attempts at drop off ever. Most times I didn't have an audience.  
I crawled out of the car, and into the arms of Joe Morelli. Ok, So maybe there were some perks to this after all. There was clapping and money changing hands; some laughing. Joe put me down, but not before he grinned and peeked under my shirt. I couldn't help but smile. It was always great to be in Joe's arms. When he finally put me down, I walked over to the passenger door of the car and tried the handle. The door opened. Some things there are no words for. They were just going to have to tow this car away. I put my hands on my hips and breathed deep for a few moments. I would not get back into this car, if it was the last fricken' car on Earth. I kicked the side panel as hard as I could and dented in the door. Thank goodness for my shoes or I would have broken my foot.  
I went inside the building, and retrieved my body receipt from Eddie. I knew he was secretly laughing. He tried to hold it in, but I saw. Joe was waiting for me when I got back to the car. He was leaning against it and he was watching me walk over. Joe looked good. He had on a brown t-shirt tucked into a faded pair of 501 jeans. I was jealous of the shirt being all tucked in there like that. He was not only one of Trenton's finest, but I think there was no denying, he was one of New Jersey's state treasures. This man was unmistakably hot. Being next to him made me feel like I was going to simultaneously combust. His legs where crossed, his arms were too. His head was tilted a little to the side, and he was looking at me curiously.  
"You're working for Vinnie again?"  
It wasn't a question really, more an astonished revelation. This guy never quits. He wants me, he loves me, but he hates my job. He was doing the macho Italian thing, and it wasn't going to go away as much as I wanted it to. He assumed I would just find a less scary way to make a living. Working for Vinnie as a bounty hunter is what keeps us both from climbing the commitment and marriage ladder. He doesn't want the woman he marries to have a dangerous job. I don't know if he wants the woman he marries to have a job at all. Since I am not sure I want to be married to someone who gives me ultimatums, we continue to date, and argue. Vincent Plum's Bail Bonds had burned down, And when It did, he had high hopes that part of my life was coming to an end.  
"I thought that you were working downtown, what happened?"  
I hadn't been working downtown, I had been a temp For one of Dickey's lawyer buddies. Once Dickey found out, he had the guy fire me. Dickey was my sad example of married un-bliss. I had been married to him for almost a year when I found him straddling my nemesis, Joyce Barnhardt, on the dining room table playing hide the salami.  
"I was let go. Dickie found out I was working in the same building."  
"Shit, Stephanie, isn't one of us in harm's way all the time, enough?"  
I looked at him; Fire must have raced across my pupils. It wasn't like money was going to just fall out of the sky. I still needed a job, and this one was available. I knew how to do this job, (Basically). For the most part, it was fairly safe. I mean, I could get run over by a train on the way to a receptionist job. What's the difference? I could feel an alarm of self-defense going off somewhere in my brain. I hadn't had breakfast, I was already in three situations, and it was only ten in the morning. I mean, what the hell! I couldn't catch a break, even if it was stapled to my ass!  
He saw the red come into my cheeks, and he made the correct assumption that I was going to yell. He Grabbed my hand and he dragged me to the side of the building. I started talking before he had the chance.  
"Joe, you and I are not going to work out if you keep hounding me about how I need a safe job. I have bills. This was available."  
I really wanted to make my own money, pay my own bills and do something that I was good at. What I really needed was a man to stand behind me, next to, in front of, or whatever. Just as long as they supported my decision as to what I wanted to do with my life. I mean, I never told him what to do. Well, sometimes. but that's personal!  
Joe looked at me incredulously."Hounding you?" He just shook his head, and tried to control himself. "If it is OK with you Stephanie, can we talk about this later? I need to get back to work; There are dead people who need to talk to me."  
He hugged me. "Listen, I gotta go. How 'bout Pino's subs later. I'll bring them over about six?" He gave me a smile, knowing food was always tempting to me. It always put me in a better mood, especially Pino's .  
"Ok?" He looked at me. Hoping for a response he could live with.  
"Yeah, that sounds great, actually." And it did. I loved Joe, and I really loved Pino's. Plus, I might not get to eat until then. Unless I want to eat the samples at Costco.  
I started walking to the bonds office. I left that damn devil car at the police drop off. Let them deal with it. I was done with it. It was a nice day, walking is good for you. After ten minutes, every fiber of my being screamed for me to go back and get the stupid car. I hated walking. I was getting good at getting out the back window anyway. Maybe I would just shoot the glass out of the side window, and I could get out of the car like Bo and Luke Duke. It could be the new cool thing to do. Maybe I could even paint the car orange and yell "Yee-haw" when I did it. Well, ok. No.  
The car door did not open when I got to the bonds office. No surprise there, I just did my thing. Most people walking by didn't even look twice. I guess a lot of people must have this problem. Maybe nothing I did surprises anyone anymore. That might have been a frightening thought, but I pushed it away and walked into the office.  
A rush of cool air blew by me as it escaped out the door. It felt really nice inside the office. Maybe I will just hang out here for a while. Connie was not at her desk, so I would have to wait anyway. What a bummer. I sat on the faux leather vinyl brown couch. I had my body receipt; I was ready to go get some food with this money. Lula was at work already. Maybe saying "at work" was a little much, but she was in the office. I had to give her credit. Her outfit was not even half as "loud" as it usually was. On a normal day Lula dressed a little on the "bright and sassy" side. It made her stand out. Lula was the one person that could get herself in more sticky situations than I could.  
I met Lula a few years back. She had been working the streets and she had the nerve to give me information on a murder investigation. For some reason, I had decided to ask the wrong person some questions regarding Joe Morelli and his involvement with a murder. Joe was my FTA. That meant Failure to Appear. He was on the lamb, and I was on the hunt to find him. I asked a psycho boxer for some information, and he took it the wrong way. When I said "Do you know anything about the murder." he thought I said "Gosh, I really would like to date you." Benito Ramirez was a destroyer of souls, a crazy psychotic who got off on hurting people. He felt like I disrespected him for not accepting a soda from him and not going on a "date". He started stalking me. He thought the best way to show his love for me was to ruin Lula's life by cutting her up and leaving her on my balcony, dying. It was his way to show me what a good time he could be. I was lucky enough to get her to the hospital before she died. It has made a special bond between us. Sometimes I feel responsible for Lula and I think she feels the same way about me. We have been working together ever since. I think we wanted to be like Sherlock and Dr. Watson, but I think we are more "Lucy and Ethel."  
"What gives?" I said to her. "Where's Connie?"  
"Oh." Lula said. Looking at Vinnie's closed door.  
"She is in the office with Vinnie. Apparently there is some sort of problem, but I am pretending that I don't give a rats behind about what happens with Vinnie. Just to stay out of personal business and all. Plus, I am having my own dilemmas. You don't see me freaking out. I mean, look at me." She pointed to herself and her outfit "I am not even wearing my bling."  
"I noticed." I said.  
"I had to tone it down today on account of Tank is introducing me to his Mama later. I don't want to out do her in any way. You gotta do that with moms. You just can't go in there showing them all the beauty at once. I need to look like a lawyer type, so she'll like me."  
"Lula." I said. "You need to just be yourself. You do look nice, though."  
"Damn straight I look nice. I look better than nice. I look Hella nice. I spent four hundred dollars on this get up. He better recognize!"  
I was busy checking out Lula's new shoes when Connie walked out of Vinnie's office. She did not look happy. She looked at me and motioned to Lula. "I am glad you're here." She said. "We need to talk, let's go for a walk."  
"A walk?" I just tried that. It was not what I wanted to do.  
Being upset was out of character for Connie. She never looked flustered. She was solid as a pit boss and just as mean when she wanted to be. This was turning into a doodle of a morning. Connie power walked out of the office. Both Lula and I ran to catch up to her. I had a feeling that what she had to say did not involve winning the Lotto and vacationing in Baja. I kept my hopes up, anyway. When we got about four doors down, she started telling us what was up.  
"Vinnie is getting a divorce." She said as she strutted what God gave her down the street. Which was kind of an amazing site, especially from the back. She had the hourglass figure and the walk that so many women sought to perfect.  
"After what happened with the office being burned down, and Vinnie getting caught not only with his pants down, but embezzling money from the business, Lucille finally had enough. She had some thugs come over and give Vinnie an ultimatum of leaving town or having his balls show up at his mother's house in a small envelope."  
I am positive that last remark would have made Vinnie white as a sheet. That man did value his package. He grabbed them whenever he was making a point. Not having them would definitely throw off his game. Connie continued to walk down the street very fast; It was hard to stay with her. Lula was huffing behind us not wanting to miss the show, but slowly losing ground.  
"Wait!" She panted. "Would you slow your ass down? You are going to give me a heart attack."She was leaning over taking some deep breaths. "I was going to take a power walking class at my local gym." Lula said as she strained to keep up to us. (I say us, but I was losing ground as fast as Lula was.) "There are some hot men power walking. After this, I don't think that I want that kinda pressure." Lula parked her butt on the curb trying to get her breath. I did the same.  
"I don't know what kinda steroids you're on, Connie." Lula said. "But I want in."  
"This is how I get my thoughts out, Connie said. "Walking fast. It makes me more efficient."  
Lula looked at her. "Girl, efficient this!" She held up her middle finger.  
"What ever it is you need to say," Lula panted. "I think you need to say it sitting down, maybe with a snack. At least a beverage. I've got to keep up my appearance today. Today is important!"  
I was thinking a beverage sounded really good. Maybe even a doughnut. I was not nearly as out of breath as Lula, but I could see where she was coming from. Connie was in a zone. I needed to get into that zone thing once in a while. It might help my thought processes. Running at super charge, that would be perfect. Lula was finally getting the color to come back into her face. The likelihood that she needed a snack was not good. Power walking might not be the best thing for her either. Connie continued talking as we walked a little slower. She promised Lula the pastry shop was going to be open when we got to the next corner.  
"Lucille says that Vinnie is a no good scum of a husband. She doesn't want him living there or anywhere near her anymore. He is afraid she will make good on her threat of letting someone cut off his balls and has decided that he is going to sell the business. He wants to move to Scottsdale, like he always threatened. Maybe run a used car joint down there, or get the bonds office off the ground. He wants us to go with him." Connie said with a little panic in her voice.  
All time stood still as we stood there and thought about what she just said. No one said anything. I think stunned was a good explanation for what we felt.  
"Pardon?" I said, trying to wrap my mind around what she just said. "That last part again?"  
Connie started flailing her arms around. She started pacing back and forth in front of us. "He says that Les Seabring will pick up the slack, and buy the business. Seabring owes Vinnie a favor from way back." She looked at us with desperation. "He has already been looking. A realtor is lining up places that may work for him. He is serious this time." Connie was the rock that held everything in place for Vinnie and the business. She never panicked. Her voice never cracked or waivored, and here she was having a nervous breakdown right in front of us. Connie did not want to have to change in her life, she liked running the show at Vinnie's. It kept her on the good side of Mafialand. She liked to have the resources if she needed them and at the same time, keep up her good Catholic values and morals along the way. The bonds office had been a good fit. She wanted everything to stay the same. Vinnie leaving would mean she would be back out looking for a job. No one liked to look for work. Not Lula, not I, and not Connie.  
Arizona didn't bring warm and fuzzy feelings to my mind. Arizona was where we had gone on the fateful trip where I was deeply humiliated by scalping stories. I was not going to follow Vinnie to that place. The silence stretched. All of us felt a little comfortable with the situation that was our lives. Yes, it could be scary, but I had learned to make it a routine that I could live with. Now what? Go back to hunting for a job? Or moving into my parent's house until I could find one? Moving in permanently with Morelli? Or working full time for Ranger? None of those things were good options. I should never have gotten up this morning. Connie's phone started to ring and she walked off, still freaking out about what just dropped on her plate.  
Lula and I watched Connie talking on the phone. I was lost as to what to do about Vinnie. I think Lula was feeling the same. "I don't want to live in Scottsdale." Lula said." Where the hell is that anyway? The desert? Do I look like I can handle the desert to you? I could go work for Les Sebring, or find a receptionist job, right? This could work out. I need a doughnut. Where did she go?" Lula looked around for Connie. She was coming back up the street toward us. "She promised us a snack."  
I took a deep breath, and tried not to hyperventilate.  
"I was talking to my cousin." Connie said as she waltzed back up to us. She looked more in control now. I was hoping for some good news. "He said he would be willing to pick up the bonds business from Vinnie." She said smiling. "We could all keep our jobs. But then I got to thinking, why do we need him? I have some money saved. I say we go in to business together and buy the bonds office from Vinnie ourselves. We don't need any help. We know the business; I think we should do it."  
It was something to think about. I had no intention of trying to beg for my job back at the button factory, the tampon factory, or the coffee shop.  
Five months ago, Vincent Plum Bail Bonds burned to the ground. The story is that Vinnie had gone into business with the wrong group of guys. He gambled away some of their money, and put not only himself in a life threatening situation, but put me and my friend Moon Man in danger also. Vinnie had also made some wrong choices when it came to what company he had kept. When it got back to his father in law, things got worse. Not only would the debt not be paid off by Lucille's father, Harry the Hammer, but Lucille was done with him also. Vinnie was on the outs with his wife and father in law. Which was not good, since his father in-law was Mafia with a capital M, and you don't mess with those boys. The people Vinnie owed money to, burned the bonds office down, and because there was no office, we all had to find work elsewhere until it was rebuilt. I did some skip work on the side that I still had the papers on, and Lula and Connie helped out as much as they could recovering files, and working with RangeMan to extract data off the burnt out computers. I was out of work until things were up and running again, hence the work at the button factory. Plus, another attempt at Cluck in the Bucket, the tampon factory, and a little stint at the fresh yogurt and bagel shop.  
They all turned out to be a bad fit in one way or another. I came home smelling like chicken grease. I clogged the cotton machine up when I spilled my soda, and got in a fight with a large chicken. I flooded the bagel and yogurt shop, got in a slapping contest with a bunch of unruly men on Sabbath and of course, the personal products factory disaster.  
I was half considering taking a job again at the pastry shop but was afraid that Joe would love that too much since that was where he took my virginity that lead me run him over with my father's car, breaking his leg. Would a business venture for Connie, Lula and me be what it took to get me out of hot water with Joe? Or would it make things worse? What If we turned out to be really bad at running a business? Then it would be one more thing that I stunk at? Or, what if we turned out to be successful, and being so, Joe and I grew farther apart? Not only that, what would my grandmother think? She would think she would have a job, is what she would think. That in itself is a reason to not do it.  
We got back to the office just after lunch. Finding our way not to the pastry shop, but instead to Lula's favorite. Cluck in the Bucket. Me, I didn't think I could ever eat at Cluck in the Bucket again. I got an ice tea and decided that I could wait on lunch. Connie gave me my check for the capture of Paul Banter. I had a lot to think about. This is where my life just never stops being confusing. Did I want to start fresh and take a chance on Scottsdale? Relocating would change everything. No one would be putting my escapades on video. I would have to leave my family, but I could visit. I know my love life would be a lot less complicated if I just took off for a while.  
I was sitting on the edge of Connie's desk burning a hole in the couch with my thoughts when I felt a change in air temperature. There was only one person that could do that. Ranger. It had been almost five months since I had seen him. He took a government assignment just after the bonds building went up in flames. One of last things he had said to me before he flew off into the sunset, (basically), was that "I owed him." For what? Well, he and I love to roll around and get frisky.  
Ranger came up behind me and put his hand on my waist as he picked up a file Connie was saving for him. My heart started to beat faster and heat ran up my spine. I turned so i could see him. He was a little thinner than he was 5 months ago. His features were harsh, then they turned soft and a little smile edged the corners of his mouth as he looked down at me. His eyes were piercing brown. I held his stare. He looked hungry. I wondered for a moment if I did too. I swallowed hard. I think I forgot to breathe. Holy cow. I didn't think I'd see him. Not today at least. I swear I have self control, but I think it ran for the door when he walked in. This caught me off guard. I half expected Tank to call and let me know he was back. Why?, I have no idea.  
"I need to talk to you." He said. "Walk out with me."  
Connie and Lula both looked down at what they were doing and started fanning themselves. I glared at both of them for not helping me out. They know how I feel about being to close to Ranger. Those are my girls. Strong as ever in the face of lust.  
Ranger scared the hell out of me. Not in a "afraid for my life" way, but more of an afraid for my soul way. With him around, it was difficult to be in a monogamous relationship. He was way too tempting. Like a dessert you weren't suppose to eat. It was painfully difficult to keep my paws off of him. The fact that he was not into relationships, made it that much more important to control myself. He was walking sex. Pure and simple. I was not about to just play around on the side with Ranger when the moment was right. One night stands were frowned upon. Plus, we already did that.  
I don't know how Vinnie and Ranger started working together. But It works out well. Vinnie has some dangerous people he writes paper on. Ranger is the one who deals with them. He only takes the high bond cases, I guess smaller ones aren't worth risking his life. The only person that found more high bonds than he did, was Jeanne Ellen. She worked for Les Seabring. I'm not sure what the relationship was with Ranger and Jeanne, but I bet it is sexual. She was very Cat Woman. And Cat Woman and Batman were always after each other.  
When I got outside, Ranger was leaning like a relaxed cat on his very new, very black Mercedes. He had his arms folded across his chest. After five months of no Ranger, It was hard for me to not touch him. I know it was wrong to feel so compelled to attack him, but I don't have a lot of willpower. I put my hands in my pockets of my jeans.  
"Word on the street is that Vincent Plum Bail Bonds may be no more. That he is thinking about moving the operation to Scottsdale." He paused. "And that he has asked the staff to move with him. Is there any credibility to this?"  
Boy, word does get around quick.  
"Connie told us about an hour ago." I said. "I guess Vinnie may be getting a divorce. It might not be the safest place for him to be, So close to Lucille and her father. Someone went as far as to threaten to cut off his balls if he doesn't relocate. He's considering leaving."  
He knew all this, but he stayed silent. Waiting.  
"And..?"  
"And, What?"  
"And. What are your plans going to be, Babe? Are you taking him up on the offer, and moving to Scottsdale?"  
I honestly didn't know. So I shrugged. "I dunno, there hasn't been an offer yet. This has all just come up. I have no idea what I'm going to do."  
Ranger looked at me for a few moments, then walked up to me, holding my eyes with his.  
"If you need work, you know that you can work for me." As he said this, he moved in towards me. I walked backwards afraid of what I would do to him if he got too close. He kept coming closer till he pushed me into the shadows of the side of the building. I felt the brick against my back, nowhere else to go. He leaned into me, moving his leg between mine. I knew I could work for him, but working for Ranger would mean I would have other problems. Joe, for one. He would be happier if I stayed working bond enforcement instead of working side by side with Ranger. Joe was keenly aware of how Ranger felt about me. Joe didn't trust Ranger. He thought he put me in dangerous situations constantly, and Ranger pushed his luck.  
"Afraid of me?" He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me lightly. I nodded a little "Yes" and he smiled at my reaction. His fingers slid down my neck, trailing down my side sending electric shock waves through my body. I was quickly losing the battle with my moral obligations. He knew the power he had over me and he was taking advantage. He grabbed me by the waist bringing me in further, wrapping his arms around me. His kiss deepened as my fingers took hold of his shirt pulling him in. I had forgotten just how much I loved being close to him. I angled my body to match his. I couldn't help it. Ranger was hard to resist. He was pushing his boundaries by holding me against the wall. I should have pushed him away, but I wasn't going anywhere. He pressed into me and my hips responded and pushed up against him. My fingers dug into his shirt. He felt good. I was thinking, who needs morals?  
He stopped. His lips so close they brushed mine. A little smile tugged at his mouth. "I missed you."  
I almost started hyperventilating for the 2nd time today.  
Ranger took his hand and gently swept a stray curl back behind my ear. He kissed me very softly, and pulled away. "I know you are seeing Morelli again." He said, as he walked back to his car and got in. "You still owe me."  
Agh... That man! By the time I got my blood pressure calmed down, he was long gone, and I was left in the alley banging my head against the wall.  
Not long ago, Ranger and I were in a precarious situation. I was not seeing Morelli, and we were alone in his bedroom. I came really close to giving into him, but my mind was on other things. One was that I didn't think it was a good idea to sleep with Ranger again. Even though we were broken up, Morelli was still who I wanted to be with. Ranger held no promise of a relationship. Nothing more would come of it. It was something I was keenly aware of. I was about to give in to his advances that night. I mean what the hell. I deserved it, and I loved Ranger. The flashing lights on his computer screen indicating a fire at the bonds office threw me off. I couldn't concentrate. Apparently, it ruined the mood. He told me that I owed him for that night. He left on this assignment after that. I just assumed or hoped that he had forgotten. I guess not.


	2. Chapter Two

I went back into the bonds office; Vinnie's door was open. His voice was loud and had an ominous tone. "Stephanie, come in here. I need to talk to you."  
I had no idea what I was going to say to him if he asked me about Scottsdale. I don't think I wanted to go. I loved Joe, and my life was here. I couldn't just pick up and leave. The office was larger than the original and now had a couch and a large desk with two leather chairs. The smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air and smelled pretty good. Before the fire, you needed the air freshener turned all the way up to 10, just to enter the room. I knew by the time I sat down what I would say if he asked. It was really a no brainer; I wasn't following Vinnie or the business. I loved Trenton. Why would I want to leave?  
Vinnie looked tired and worn down. I felt bad for him. He was my cousin, he was family. Family stuck together. Even if they fell in love with ducks. He was wearing a rumpled shirt and had 3 day old stubble on his face. The black circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn't had a decent night's sleep, I'm guessing since this all began. Not only that, he smelled like he hadn't taken a shower in just as long. Usually I didn't pay to close attention to my cousin's hygene. One person's pigsty is another person's heaven, who was I to judge? But my mother hen gene just would not let this go.  
"You look like shit, are you Ok?" I inwardly grimaced at my own comment. I was going for subtle, but that isn't what flew out of my mouth.  
Vinnie shrugged. "I suppose Connie told you what was going on."  
"So you are really going this time? Is this serious enough to run?" Lucille was never one of my all time favorite people, but living with Vinnie couldn't have been easy. I wasn't surprised when Connie told me Lucille was finished with Vinnie. I also wasn't surprised she wanted him gone. I had felt the same way when I divorced Dickie Orr. I just didn't have the backing to force it to happen.  
"Yeah. Well, Lucille is a bitch." He said. "Wouldn't even accept my apology. So fuck her. Then, she has the nerve to threaten my boys." Vinnie pointed to his nuts. "She really nailed me good. The thing is, if she had taken this kind of interest in me before, we wouldn't be in this predicament. She gets all sexy when she acts like this."  
I tried to concentrate on something besides that last comment. I did not want that mental picture.  
"So here's the thing." He said. "You think about it. Maybe we could work something out where we would be partners or something out there. It could work." He tried to smile, but it was sad attempt. No one wanted to up and move because they were forced into it. I saw a little fright in his eyes. Like he knew that the threat was real.  
"Vinnie, I don't know about Scottsdale. I have a life here."  
"Yeah well, Just think about it, Ok?"  
I walked out of the office thinking he was on his own. Not that it wouldn't be interesting to try and move to another state. For now, I needed to get my mind off of other people, and back to me. I had the check from Paul Banter's capture. Although It was not huge, I could grab some groceries. At the same time, I could look up the other five FTA's that I had. I needed a partner in crime. I was a little short on nerve. Plus, every good action hero needs a partner.  
Batman and Robin.  
Louis and Clark.  
Laverne and Shirley.  
Thelma and Louise.  
Cagney and Lacy.  
Lucy and Ethel.  
Fonzi and Ritchie.  
Lennie and Squiggy.  
Burt & Ernie.  
Ok So, I was getting out there on this one. I looked over at Lula. She didn't need an invite to decide she was finished filing for the day.  
"If you're going out to pick up some of those bad guys, I need to go. We need to start collaborating on this new venture. I need practice." Lula grabbed her purse. "As long as we can pick up something to eat first, I'm starving!"  
Connie looked over at Lula. Lula could eat. Sometimes there was no stopping that machine.  
"Don't even think we can take that car of yours, neither. No way am I getting my plus size frame through one of those dinky windows. I saw that show you put on. Crawlin' out of the window. No way. We are takin' my car."  
That sounded like a fine idea to me. Unless we ran into a dead guy,a naked guy, a stinky guy, or the police, Lula was there for me.  
We sat in Lula's Firebird in the drive-thru line at Freda's Fried Chicken and Waffles. I asked her what she thought about going into business together. "Damn straight we should take over Vinnie's office. Connie runs it anyways. What does Vinnie do all day anyway, besides look at naked duck porn and talk dirty to Rhonda the phone sex lady?"  
She had a point. We had met Rhonda; she had missed her court date. Vinnie bonded her out again. They made some kinky arrangement about getting free phone sex for two months. It didn't matter that she weighed close to three hundred and fifty pounds in person. She sounded like a fifteen year old schoolgirl on the phone.  
Lula took the folder and put it on the dashboard. "Which one of these fine examples of bonds office mistakes do we wanna go after first?" Lula Said. "I am in a mood to kick some butt. "  
Lula was right, it was time to get some work done, and we did. By five O'clock, we had captured three no shows. Ricky Salinger, Carl Worthington, and Lashonda Johnson. We felt like bond enforcement bad-asses. Hells yeah. We didn't even get videotaped. Four skips in one day saved me. I almost had enough to pay my rent, buy groceries, and make a minimum payment on my Visa card. It was turning out to be a great day. I even had enough time to get back to the office, get my POS Honda, and motor on home to my apartment. I could take a shower, and get ready for dinner with Morelli. I was happy. Everything had gone right. The day had been saved. I jumped in my Bo and Luke Duke Honda and I motored towards home.  
And then it happened.  
"Bang!"  
The car in front of me veered off the road and flipped over. I turned to see what had happened and another loud shot exploded my back window. I screamed, and ducked. Who the hell was shooting at me? What the hell! I couldn't think of anyone I had pissed off bad enough in at last six months. Who would want to kill me? My mind raced. Who got out of the clinker, anyone threatening? I couldn't think of anyone, lately. In the past there had been many, but I thought my life was pretty safe from that kind of threat at the moment. One thing for sure, I wasn't going to stick around and have someone get a better shot. I took off as fast as I could, but the car felt funny. It was hard to steer. It's a strange sensation to suddenly realize that you only have three wheels. My heart was pounding, I was shaking. I got the car to stop, and climbed out the back window as fast as I could.  
I moved slowly, trying to stay out of sight. I used my car as cover, looking for a shooter. I was in the middle of town, about five blocks from the office. I glanced around. Buildings and rooftops. Plenty of places for someone to take a clear shot. The car that flipped over was behind me. There were two people trying to climb out. No one else tried to shoot at me for the last twenty seconds. I grabbed my cellphone out of my pocket, and called 911. I ran over to help the lady and man who were stuck in the overturned car.  
"Do you know who was shooting at you?" I said, whispering as I ducked behind a parked car. "Are you Ok?"  
They both looked at me like I was nuts. "Shooting at us? No one was shooting at us!" The man said in a loud voice. "You're mistaken. I lost control of the car is all. I sure hope you weren't hurt." He helped the woman to her feet, and they dusted themselves off. He was holding his arm, blood was starting to show through the fabric.  
I was stunned. Of course someone was shooting. The man had a bullet in his arm, for Christ's sake. In the backseat there was another man. He was on the large side. He had rolled onto his stomach. He didn't look like he was going to get to eat anymore Twinkies. His life was over. I hoped he had enjoyed the ride.  
I knew then, this might be the part of my scary job that Joe didn't like. I was beginning to believe it may not be the job. It might be me. Things just seemed to happen when I was around.  
I sat on the curb in front of Lane's Smog and Wash, watching the first-responders. Ambulances, fire trucks, police cars,coroner,Morelli. Ranger angled his car in, and stopped near me. Both of them made me feel safe, but also made me feel so small. All these people had my back. I needed protecting. From either myself or from others. They waited for calls about things that I was involved in. Where they always going to have to rush to my rescue? I knew it wasn't fair to assume they would. When does Wonder Woman ever need assistance? She didn't even need a sidekick. I didn't feel like Wonder Woman anymore. Maybe Trenton needed to slow down, or maybe I needed to speed up.  
Morelli walked over to me. He looked concerned. "You ok?" He sat down next to me. "The older gentleman, and the woman are going to be ok; he has a gunshot in his right arm. He says he doesn't remember it happening. The woman, she acts confused. Of course they also claim to have never seen the dead guy in the back seat. I think they are going to be spending sometime at my office." He paused, and looked me over once more. "You sure you're Ok?"  
I nodded, but I wanted to cry. I wanted Joe to realize I could take care of myself, and I kept proving myself wrong. He was a good cop. He didn't deserve a girlfriend who couldn't stay out of trouble for more than two months at a time. I was beginning to feel like I was part of someone's bad joke. I put my head down into my lap. My car was totaled sort of. Well. Might as well be. Joe hugged me, kissing me on my forehead. He said he was happy I was ok, and that he would see me tonight. Sad thing is, he was so use to me getting into these messes, that he didn't even think I needed a ride home. I watched him walk away.  
Joe and Ranger did a nonverbal trade off of the "Stephanie watch". As Morelli walked away, Ranger came over to me. He looked at me for a moment, standing over me. "I think it is safe to say that your Honda is toast. What happened?"  
I honestly did not know what happened. I shrugged, and stood up. "Scottsdale is looking better all the time." This time, for the first time, I walked away. I had enough. I had done everything right, and the day just kept kicking me in the ass. I started walking home, wondering why I couldn't even drive to my apartment without something bad happening. I was frustrated. I needed to think. A half hour later, I was halfway home. A car pulled up, angled in front of me, and stopped. The dark tinted window slid down.  
"Get In"  
I was hot, I was tired. I needed someone to talk to, so I did. It was Ranger.  
"You walked away from me, don't do that. It's not polite, and put your seat belt on."  
I just looked at him. It had been a hell of a day. I did not want this right now. What I wanted was for him to understand. I needed him to understand. He could fix it. Give me courage, make me feel better about everything.  
I realized then that he wasn't Batman. This was just a man. Someone who didn't understand me anymore than I understood myself. Someone who thought I needed a seat belt. He must have seen something in my eyes. He turned back to the road, focused. And just drove.  
He drove onto an overpass and stopped. We both got out of the car. Him first ,and then I followed reluctantly. We were close to the outskirts of Trenton. I could see the neighborhood I grew up in, I could see the good and the bad, the lights and the traffic. The world very clear. It was already dusk. I could see most of Jersey from this very spot.  
Ranger leaned on his car and looked out over the city. "Sometimes I come out here when I need to think. I can get a clear prospective if I look at the whole picture. If you look at something differently, it makes a lot more sense. That is your city, Stephanie." He pointed out over Trenton. "You shouldn't be afraid of it. You have a gift. The ability to get under people's skin. They remember you, like it or not." He turned to me, looking into my eyes. "That is why you have trouble. No one forgets you. Not only that, but when you are doing your job and after someone, God help them. You are a Bloodhound."  
I leaned on the car next to him, trying to reach the same conclusion about myself, but having a little trouble thinking of myself as a bloodhound. Most of the time I am just lucky, maybe, but a bloodhound on someones trail? I just did not see it. I think Joe maybe right. I am going to really get hurt one day. Today's accident proved it. Maybe my 9 lives were up.  
Ranger turned to look at me. I could see the lights of the city shine in his eyes, he smiled and looked out over Trenton. "What amazes me most is you don't see yourself as anything but a fuck up. That is where people have the advantage. You don't understand just how incredible you are. Just because there are people in your life that don't understand you, doesn't mean what you do is screwed up or wrong. Just different."  
We stood in silence for a long time. "I think you are trying to get in my pants, Carlos Manoso." I said. "Stop teasing me."  
Ranger barked out a Laugh. "Shit, Stephanie. If I wanted in your pants, it would have happened already. You are an open book. I know all your tells."  
I smiled up at him. "Yeah, I guess you do." I kicked the rocks at my feet in an attempt to change the subject. He had given me a tremendous compliment, and I had nowhere to go with it. It felt weird saying "thank you".  
"So what happened, how come you were gone so long?" I didn't know what I expected him to say, but I had missed him. He was gone for months. He usually kept his comings and goings pretty secret. all I usually got is a one word answer about his journeys. Like "Yep,Good",or sometimes just a smile. Ranger was very secretive. It bugged the hell out of me. Maybe this was the opportunity to find out juicy stuff about his life.  
"I was in El Salvador. Not exactly a story I want to repeat. I couldn't even if I wanted to. It's confidential." Ranger moved away from his car, and opened the passenger side for me. "I want to know about what happened today, but I have an appointment that I need to keep. Tomorrow morning stop by Rangeman. I also have some things to discuss with you. I really would like to know the story with the car and the sniper."  
Sniper? I was really hoping he was wrong. If there was a sniper, the chances were 50/50 that he was shooting at me. Ranger dropped me off at my apartment, just as Joe showed up with sandwiches and beer. When I saw Joe, I got instant butterflies. He was the light at the end of the tunnel, and he was holding food. Ranger's disposition darkened when he saw Joe. He squeezed my hand and said, "tomorrow."  
I watched him drive away, wondering what meeting he suddenly needed to get to. Joe was waiting for me by his new truck. It was a dark gray Ford F-150. He had bought it about a year ago, and he looked so good standing next to it, that I wanted to bite him. But when I looked into his eyes, they were soft, like Mocha and a little sad. He took my hand and we went upstairs to my apartment. It was cool and dark when we went in. I put my bag down on the counter and fed Rex what was left of an apple. Joe was looking at me intently. I wondered what was on his mind. He didn't bring Bob; I knew he wasn't staying the night. I had an erie feeling in my stomach and I didn't even know why.  
We unwrapped our sandwiches, and popped open a couple beers, Just like a couple who had been together for years. We stood eating in the kitchen. I was silent. Waiting. I wanted him to say what he needed to say. I didn't take long.  
"Stephanie, you need to tell me what happened today, and you still need to go and give your statement to the investigators." He said, as he finished a bite of his sandwich.  
I told him all I knew, which was not a lot. I told him I was driving, The car in front of me flipped after I heard a gunshot. My back window blew out. I had no idea why someone would shoot at me, or the couple in front of me. And I had no idea who it was or where It came from.  
Joe let out a long sigh and he looked down. "I really don't think I can do this anymore, Stephanie."  
I was confused. It sounded like this was rehearsed.  
"You are always going to be in danger. You are always going to need to be rescued. Even if you're not at the bonds office. You still get shot at, kidnapped, and weird things happen to you."  
I was stupefied to say the least. I couldn't believe it. He was going to break up with me. This was a breakup speech. I know my life was a little complicated but he was giving up on us.  
"I am 35 years old, Stephanie. I really need some normal in my life. I don't think you can do normal. I have been thinking about this a lot, I don't want to tell you how to feel, or tell you what you can and can't do with your life. It isn't fair. I want things that I don't think you can give me anymore."  
I took a deep breath. I was pinching myself, trying to make this go away. This had to be a nightmare. This was not happening to me.  
"Day in and day out, I see horrific things." He said. "When I get home, I want to shut it off. I want to have a family that shields me from the horrors of what I go through every day. I want a stable relationship that I am not worried about. I want kids, and I want them to grow up safe and out of harm's way. I just don't think that is what you want, or need anymore. Stephanie, you are a walking disaster. I love you, damn it, but I can't be with you anymore. There is no future in this."  
Crap. I can't believe this is happening. I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. I held my breath and counted down. I couldn't talk. I just sat there with a half eaten sandwich in my hand. He called me a walking disaster. I finally sat the sandwich on the counter, and tried to steady myself.  
"I need to start my life, Cupcake. I just feel like we are going in circles." He looked at me and I knew he wanted me to be ok with this. I was not ok with this. I was not ok with anything anymore. This day was like a monster. My whole life caved in, in less than 17 seconds, I had lost everything.  
Joe stayed with me for a little while longer, then took the coward's way out and said he had to get back. Bob would want to go out, and he needed to think. I couldn't talk. I was in shock. There were no words that I could come up with. My life as I knew it was getting up and leaving. All I could do was wait for this nightmare to end.  
Before he left, he said. "Stephanie, I will always love you, more than you know. But this is my life. I need to feel confident that I can come home to someone who can be there for me, or I can't do my job.  
And then he was gone. Just like that.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter 3  
When I was eight, I met my best friend Mary Lou Molnar. She is now, Mary Lou Stankovic. She and I have grown up together. Her parents lived down the street from mine. We did everything together. She was always Wendy when I was Peter Pan. We have laughed, and we have cried together. We lusted over the same guys, from Joe Morelli all the way to "Blackie Lawless" from General Hospital. Whenever something terrible happens, she is the one I turn to. It was her I called when my marriage to Dickie Orr quickly went south; she was there during it all. Through thick and thin; it was always her shoulder that I leaned upon. So, it was no surprise to her that I called. I did not have to say anything, really. Just, I need you. She said, "Omigod! I will be right there."  
I sat on the floor. I couldn't get up. I had to go to the bathroom, and I couldn't find the will, or the strength to do it. I would just have to figure something else out. I was waiting for this nightmare to go away and I would wake up. It would be a nice day, and everything would be normal. Someone knocked on my door. It was midnight. I was still sitting there. My stomach was cramping up. I was seriously considering the damage that would be made if I just went ahead and did the deed.  
"Stephanie. Let me in. Its Mary Lou. I have cake."  
Usually, that was enough to rattle my chain and make me get up, But I just couldn't. She finally took her spare key out and let herself in.  
The door opened. "Hey Stephanie, are you ok?" She asked, then tripped over me. "Jesus, It's pitch dark in here! Was that you?" She switched on the hall light and found me on the floor. "Cripes, Stephanie do you need a doctor, what happened?"  
All I had the energy to say was, "help, I need to pee!"  
"Well, damn girl. Let's get you up, and into the bathroom. Don't you dare even think about peeing on me!"  
Mary Lou helped me up and did not ask me anymore questions. 'Cause that's what girlfriends do. They give you space to breathe until you want to talk. She helped me stumble into the bathroom. I closed the door, and stared at myself in the mirror trying to tell myself everything was OK. It wasn't working. I felt sad, but at the same time, happy I was finally the bathroom. It would have been really embarrassing to have tinkled on the rug. I took a deep breath and turned out the light, and walked out into the living room. There was a birthday cake sitting on the table. It was pink and blue with little fluffy clouds and sugar-coated roses done in lavender and green. It said "Happy 50th, Myrtle !". I guess Myrtle didn't need the cake. I just stared at It. I didn't want birthday cake anymore. I didn't think it would cheer me up, or give me courage.  
Why couldn't I be a normal girl? One that Joe could depend on. I wanted to be that person so bad my chest hurt. I was getting so worked up thinking about it , I was going to have an anxiety attack. I just wasn't ever going to be the person he talked about. I was always going to have something that kept things from being normal. Why? Because I was the girl who jumped off her parent's roof, and thought she could fly.  
Mary Lou sat with me and I cried on her shoulder. I still hadn't told her what happened. I guess she didn't really need to know. She knew in time I would tell her. She stayed with me all night. I must have finally fallen asleep on the couch next to her. Next thing I knew, It was morning, and she was still there.  
Mary Lou got up and strolled into the kitchen. "My mom is watching the kids for me." she started rummaging through my leftovers. "They know you need me, and I can stay for as long as you want me to. Besides, I could use a break from soccer practice and dance lessons. I was getting 'roids from having to talk to all the other parents."  
I tried to smile. I am lucky to have her. She is my best friend. I can only hope that her life doesn't throw her road blocks like mine did. She deserved happiness, but I would be there for her,if it did. Just as she is for me. I think you only get one true friend. You can have many friends, but there is always one that will go the extra mile. Mary Lou was that person.  
At two in the afternoon, we had the cake halfway finished. I was considering telling her what happened, but then it would be real. We were still in our jammies, watching Jerry Springer. I was sipping tea and trying not to cry. The lock tumbled on my front door. Ranger walked in. I didn't know if Mary Lou ever really met Ranger. As in "hello". Introduced, the whole enchilada. At that moment, I didn't really care if the Grim Reaper came through my door. I wasn't really there. Mary Lou looked flustered, and Ranger looked confused.  
She turned to me. "Do you mind if I take off for a while? I need to check on things at home." I nodded and gave her a big hug, and said thank you. She did an awkward hello and goodbye with Ranger, grabbed her purse and left.  
Ranger looked down at me. I was still in my night-clothes. My hair must have been all over the place. My eyes were swollen, my face all blotchy. I had curled up into ball on the couch tying to dissolve into the fabric. He closed the front door and leaned against the frame. "Are you sick? Anything contagious?"  
I just nodded "No". I didn't think a broken heart was contagious, but I wasn't sure. He looked like he needed a clue. I didn't give him one. Ranger walked over and sat next to me on the couch, and flicked the T.V. Off with the remote. He put his arm around me protectively.  
I must have fallen asleep. I woke up with a start, not knowing where I was. I realized I was on my couch. It was close to eight at night, and I was alone. I knew what woke me up. Someone was coming through the door. Ranger. He walked in. He had Chinese food. He set the food on the table. He still didn't ask me what was wrong, and I didn't tell him. There was a lot of silence. For once, I really needed it. Some things are just too sad to say out loud.  
"You should eat something, Stephanie" He finally said. Opening one of the containers of sticky rice and handing It to me.  
I glared at him. He stared right back. I grabbed the container from him, picked up chopsticks and mashed stuff around a little. Putting it back down. He stopped eating his food. I could see he was trying hard to get what was happening. To give him credit, this was not his problem. I think it was obvious at that point that it had to do with Joe.  
"Are you going to tell me what this is about? He finally said, dropping his food container on the coffee table. "You were suppose to meet me at the office this morning. When you didn't show, I called. Your phone is off. I thought something happened to you. I was being a good guy, and so I called Morelli. He told me maybe I should come over and check up on you. It was out of character for him. So here I sit. I am still in the dark. You need to open up and let me know what is going on. I don't mind the silence, but it would be nice if you could trust me.  
"Joe broke up with me." I said, finally. I took a deep breath. Finalizing it. Throwing it out there, making it the reality I was having a hard time facing. "He told me I was a walking disaster, and that I would never be the girl he wanted me to be. That it was unfair to ask it of me. What he needed was someone normal, someone to help get rid of the demons in his head, not make more."  
Ranger almost looked relieved. Apparently breaking up with Joe was nothing new. "Stephanie, I can't believe I am saying this, but I am sure you will mend your relationship. You always do."  
"It's different this time." I felt new tears fall. Damn.  
Ranger moved over so he was next to me on the couch and tucked me into his jacket. It was warm and cozy. It felt safe. I must have dozed off. It was morning when I woke up. I was on the couch with a quilt over me. The boxes of food picked up. Rex had some veggies in his bowl, and Ranger was gone.  
I pulled myself up, dragged myself into the bathroom, and took a really long hot shower. I tied my hair back, and attempted to get the circles to go away from under my eyes. My life needed to go on. As reckless and crazy as it was, I needed to live it. I was struggling with sadness. I took a deep breath and walked out the door. Unfortunately, when I got to the parking lot, there was no car. My piece of crap Honda was not around anymore. It was probably on its way to the big scrap pile in the sky by now. I stood there. Taking it all in.  
Mr. Capelli came by, walking fast. He was rail thin. Probably weighed twenty pounds less than I did, and he was two inches shorter. He had a slight hunch, which didn't seem to slow him down one bit. What little hair he had what as white as snow, cut short and neat. He had to be about a hundred and five. He wore black rimmed thick glasses that made his eyes seem three times their normal size, kind of like Mister MaGoo. I had seen him occasionally, walking round the parking lot. He picked up trash and looked for loose change. He was spit and vinegar in the morning. I don't know how he did it. Mrs. Sanders in 2B told me he was always up at five AM doing laps up and down the hallways. She was going to complain. She said it wasn't normal for a man his age to be acting that way. I hope I had that much energy when I got old.  
"Hey there, sweetie!" he said. "Ya need a ride somewhere? I don't see your car today."  
Actually,yeah. I do need a ride. "I don't suppose you could give me a ride to work?" I said. Hoping that he actually owned a car.  
"Why sure! I was going out anyways. I need a different place to take my walks." He said. "I think maybe the park. I keep getting notes on my door from the woman next door. She says its illegal to walk up and down the hallway until after seven. I think she is full of baloney, but what can ya do? " He got into a dusty green Dodge Neon that was sitting in the corner of lot. He unlocked the passenger side for me, and I got in. Well. There ya go. I thought. I had myself a ride.  
"I need my exercise." He continued. If I slow down, I will never get back up to speed. I'm waiting for that new Senior Living building to be finished. Have you seen it? It's a beaut! It's over on Charleston Street. Can't miss it. It has all the palm trees out front."  
From what I remembered of Charleston Street, it was a quiet tree lined street with a small cemetery that dated back to the 1800's. It had a mortuary that Grandma Mazur was banned from entering because of her casket hi jinx, and a flower shop. There were a few older houses set back from the street. Putting a Senior housing complex in that neighborhood seemed like a good choice location. Make it convenient.  
"I'm fifth in line to get a place in the new complex." He said as he drove. His seat was pushed up as far as humanly possible. His nose almost touched the steering wheel. He sat on a phone book so he could see over the dash. "I'm getting a nice bachelor pad. There are plenty of single chicks moving in. I saw the list. Lotsa women. Including your grandmother."  
That got my attention. "My grandmother?" I stuttered.  
He nodded. "She's pretty cute too. I told her about the building. She said she was already on the waiting list with another hot young thing. They were thinking about being roommates. Of course, I thought that was a whopper of an idea. Two available girls. Like college all over again."  
"Hot young thing?" I said confused. My Grandmother was no spring chicken. She was in her early 80's, I was almost sure of it.  
"Shoot," He said. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm eighty-six years old!. Most of the girlies that will be moving in are all younger than I am, and most of them are single!"  
Oh Boy.  
He went on to say that I might know the woman Grandma was speaking of " Bella something". Oh Crap. My heart almost stopped. I coughed, and choked on my own surprise.  
He hit my back hard with his palm, causing me to cough again . "You gotta watch out. My late wife choked on a pickle, died right there in front of me. It was a doozy of a pickle too."  
"Are you telling me that my Grandmother might move out of my parent's house to live with Grandma Bella?"  
"Well, I don't know if she is a grandmother." He told me, happy as pie.  
His car jerked to a stop and just about gave me whiplash with the seat belt. My head was two inches away from getting some dash. "Whelp..Here ya are!" He said as he parked the car half in, half on the curb in front of the bonds office. "Hope to see you again soon! Tell your Grandmother I am looking forward to living close to her. She's a real doll."  
I said good-bye, and he drifted off, nearly missing three cars parked on the road with only inches to spare. Grandma Mazur moving out? I had a feeling I would be talking to my mother about this.  
Connie was at her desk, swamped with folders. There was a huge mess in front of her. She had decided to use the new computer to hold all the data from the office, but with that came the task of data entry. What was left of the files from the fire were in front of her. She did not look happy.  
"How's it going?" I asked tentatively.  
"Don't even go there." she said in a huff. "All this crap about Vinnie leaving, and I am still working on last month's problems. I need an office assistant. This is getting ridicules."  
"I thought Lula was helping you." I picked up some of the half burnt up files, shuffling through them. They were more than a little burned up. I could only read one forth of the content.  
"Yeah, right. All these files in this pile are toast." she said pointing to the ones I picked up. There is nothing I can do with them. Most of it was on the computer, but I have to go through and check them all one by one. It's a pain in the rear."  
"Is he here?" I said looking towards the closed-door half hidden by a large cardboard cut out of Chewbacca.  
"Vinnie?" She said laughing. "He never leaves. I think he's been sleeping on the couch in his office. One day he came out of that office in boxer shorts. It was scary."  
"So, what is the deal with Scottsdale. Is he still thinking about moving?"  
"He is doing more than thinking, Stephanie. Yesterday afternoon after everyone left, he went as far as having me draw up papers. He said he had to leave. He liked the idea of us buying out the business from him."  
"Maybe I should go to Scottsdale with Vinnie." I said. As I said it, I was thinking it could work.  
Connie froze. She looked up at me. Before, she was lost in her work and just talking. Not really caring who was listening while she got on with her job. "What?"  
"Scottsdale." I said. "Maybe I should go with Vinnie."  
"I saw your car last night on my way home. It didn't look so good. you OK?"  
"Maybe it would be a good thing for me. not get blown up every time I turned around. It would be a change. Maybe I could keep a car out there. Maybe people would stop shooting at me, And, maybe I wouldn't get in the fricken newspaper every fifteen minutes." I picked up a pillow and thunked my head with it. "What am I thinking?"  
Connie shuffled some more papers and looked slightly irritated. " Considering that I went through with this deal because I thought you were going to be here to help me, I think it would be a terrible idea. Who would I have to do skip tracing? Lula?"  
"Maybe you could hire someone else."  
"From what I remember last time we did that, it was a disaster."  
Connie had put an ad in the paper for a bond enforcement agent when we needed some help and Ranger was out of the game for a while. The people who did show up were not exactly qualified. I heard her huff a few times.  
"So what happened? I heard you had some car problems."  
I told her the short version of the story.  
"Morelli needs to get a grip. He is hot, but he needs to live in this century."  
"He has a point, Connie. I mean, how many other people do you know that blow up cars weekly, and burn up building as much as i do?"  
"That's the thing." She said. "You didn't. Other people did that. It wasn't your fault."  
I rolled my eyes. At some point, I think I needed to realize it could not be all coincidence.  
I saw Vinnie's light go on in his office. I got up and went to talk to my cousin.  
Vinnie wasn't into wasting time. If I was going with him, I had to be ready to leave in less than a month. He was taking the cowardly route. Running. From the looks of his two black eyes, I had an idea that it wasn't really his choice. It was more of a leave or die kind of situation. Connie signed paperwork stating that she would own half the business. He would be a silent partner, meaning he couldn't complain if things went south. She was a good business woman. She could pull this off. Although, she was not happy I was leaving. I knew she would probably make more money with Vincent out of the picture. Vinnie gambled a lot of the business away. Lula, in spite of how Vinnie felt about it, was getting a chance at being an apprehension agent. Vinnie almost blew a fuse when he heard that one. Especially since he only had 3 agents to begin with, and one of those was Ranger. He only came in for the big cases, so he really didn't count. Connie would have to find some agents to pick up the slack. I was having a hard time believing Lula could pick up anyone without some help.  
Lula was looking at me sideways when I walked out of his office.  
"I think Scottsdale might be nice." I said, trying to rationalize my intentions. I watched the History Channel. It said Scottsdale was full of historic buildings and stuff."  
"Hunuh. I don't think you realize where Scottsdale is? That's desert, girl. Rattlesnakes, spiders, scorpions kinda desert. I looked it up." She said. "It's hot in Scottsdale. Your hair will frizz, you'll get all dried up like a prune. You want to look like a prune?"  
Being prune-like didn't sound all that fantastic.  
Connie and Lula were taking all of this really well. Actually I think they were shell-shocked. They both made me promise that tonight, we were going out. It didn't matter what I said, I had no choice. They wanted to know what the heck was up. They wanted details. I needed a girl's night anyway. They were picking me up at eight.  
I called my Dad; I needed a ride, and a car. I decided that an armored tank like the Buick might be what I needed to ward off the creeps that I kept getting. I was paranoid about being outside. What if the sniper rumor Ranger put in my head was true? I was not going to be anyone's target today.  
My Father pulled up to the curb. His cab was doing the local rounds anyway, he said he was in the neighborhood. He had retired from the Post Office three years before. He bought an old cab, fixed it up and now he ran his buddies around in it for some extra money.  
He asked me if I wouldn't mind stopping by the house and coming in for a few minutes. He said my mother was ironing again. She needed someone else to talk to besides Grandma Mazur. He said I needed to run some interference. I wanted to pick up the Buick,anyway. We pulled up to the curb. My father and I looked over at Mom and Grandma Mazur. Grandma has lived with us since Grandpa Mazur was doing the Polka with Jesus. They were both standing at the door watching us.  
"I wonder if everyone's family was as crazy as ours?" He said.  
I didn't have an answer for that one.  
I opened the door and climbed out, thanking him for the ride. My mother and grandmother were standing in the door, waiting for me to come in. Grandma had a book of the occult in her hand. She glanced at me and tried to give me an evil stare. Today she was in all black. Black dress, black patent leather shoes, and a big cross around her neck. She could pass as a witch on Halloween.  
"What? What did I do?" I said as Grandma continued to stare at me with weird piercing eyes.  
"Wait." She said, putting her hand up to her temple. "I am getting a headache. I almost saw your future, Stephanie. I saw lawn furniture and Pez candies." She used her arms to do a dramatic sweep of the yard, staring far away.  
My mother put her hands on her hips. "Oh for Heaven's sake, you're staring at lawn furniture, and at Mary Alice's Pez candy horse. I can't take anymore of this nonsense. Kill me now, Lord, take me away. I'm ready." She made the sign of the cross and walked into the house. "Stephanie. I need to talk to you in the kitchen." She said, as her voice drifted from inside the house.  
My mother only asked to talk to me in the kitchen when there was a real dilemma. Which was about once a week.  
When I walked in, she was hunting for a bottle, but I didn't think she had anything strong enough. "Your Grandmother has gotten it in her head that she's psychic. She has a new friend, God help us. You know her, Hell everyone knows her. It's Bella. Joe's Grandmother."  
Eeek. I was afraid the rumors were true.  
"People keep calling, saying that your grandmother is practicing witchcraft and that she and Bella are going to move in together, start a cult. This town is going down the tubes, I tell you. What I am going to tell everyone?" She took a glass down and poured herself some brandy. "You need to talk to Joe, find out what he knows about all this. I can't even get a moments peace with all this nonsense."  
I knew my Mom was upset, but hearing Joe and I broke up was not going to help. I leaned on the kitchen counter, contemplating. "I don't know If I can call him." I picked up a piece of cheese and ate it. "We broke up."  
My Mother glared at me. "Don't tell me that. I don't want to hear that now. Linda Santorin's Daughter's married, and has four kids. Elizabeth Croat's Daughter Beth is a Lawyer, She's married with a child on the way. And what, I have one daughter who is on her second marriage, this time to a Kloughn, and another who gets blown up and is never going to give me grandchildren." She tried to stop herself from saying that last part, but it slipped out. She put her hand up to her mouth, but it was too late.  
I narrowed my eyes. There it was. She wanted me to get pregnant and have a child!  
"You were secretly wishing Joe would knock me up! Then we would have to get married!"  
"Well." My Mother said, taking another drink. "I can't say it wouldn't be a nice change. It would keep you from getting in the newspaper every week."  
I couldn't believe her. She was being selfish. She wanted me to settle down and be, well, normal. Agh! My own family! I was normal-ish. I wasn't ready to have children and settle down to a life, like my sister.  
"Listen," She said. "Be mad at me later about that. I have phone calls from half the neighborhood telling me you lost another car too. I am willing to let that go. Just fix your grandmother. She is going off the deep end!"  
I thought it is safe to say she'd been teetering for a few years now. But I didn't.  
I went outside took a deep breath, and called Joe.  
"Yep" he said. Not much for conversation, I guess. I sighed.  
"My mother wanted me to call you, and find out what is going on with Bella and Grandma Mazur."  
There was silence.  
"Hello?"  
"Give me a minute." He hung up.  
I was being rational here. But it really hurt my heart to hear his voice. I missed him, I missed Bob. I wondered if I got visitation.  
I was hugging myself. Thinking about visitation, when he called back. "My Mother didn't know about this. Thanks for the heads up."  
"Joe?" I said. "Do I get visitation?"  
"With me, or Bob?"  
"With Bob."  
"How would that work, Stephanie? This is hard enough, please don't make it harder."  
I sighed, and hung up. We had used Bob many times to fix our relationship. I guess this time; Bob wasn't allowed to work it out.  
I declined dinner with my parents. I had promised Connie and Lula some time, and I needed to go home and get ready. Grandma was going to another viewing tonight. They had Florence Picador laid out, and it was going to be a full house. Bella and Grandma were going together. I really was glad I didn't have to drive them.


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter 4  
Lula sat facing the lights of the stage. We took our seats next to her, drinks in hand. "We were real lucky to get these seats; we're so close to the stage!" She said.  
We were at "The Submarine". Ernie Berger bought The Snake Pit and turned it into an all male strip club on the weekends. Since the movie "Magic Mike", there has been a big draw for male strip clubs with sexy muscle-bound men. During the week it could be rented out for events. Thursday was Bingo, and Tuesday's slot was held for AA meetings. All the other days were open only for private parties. Tonight was a charity event for The Fireman's Fund. It was a benefit to help with costs of medical bills and care for firemen when they were hurt on the job. The advertisement promised all the men from the 12 month "Trenton's Hottest Fireman" calendar would be there, along with entertainment from the entire lineup of Trenton's version of Chippendale dancers. It was a huge event from the line we saw outside. I hadn't been here since Ernie took it over. He had gotten rid of the mud wrestling and went with a stage show instead. We were sitting center stage. Front row. Ernie Berger was Connie's second cousin twice removed. Apparently he just kept coming back for more. She had gotten the tickets from him, and we had first dibs on seating.  
Lights dimmed and red and purple spotlights pulsated to the beat of the music. The crowd of women shoved forward in anticipation. We all stood up, so we could see what was happening . A man dressed in a full fire-suit walked onstage. The spotlights turned towards him. He moved with the music hypnotizing us with his hip movements and grinding motions. Two more men came out wearing full gear, and moving to the music. The crowd moved with them. I found myself drawn into it. With a quick tug, his whole shirt was off, creating more of a stir in the already under-sexed over stimulated crowd, revealing a bare oiled chest rippled with muscles. For some reason images of Ranger danced in my head. Not that I would want him on stage, but I think I was a little motivated by the amount of sex and suggestions that flowed through this club, or maybe I had a little too much to drink. Whatever the reason, I was going with it. The music flowed, I could feel it vibrating through me. With another flick of his wrist, his pants dropped off, leaving him onstage with only a tiny g-string keeping it all in. It was metallic silver with a little American flag sewn on. Of course he still had on his hat. The song picked up again, changing, flowing into another pulsating crowd pleaser. He picked up a fire hose and positioned it between his legs stroking it like it was his own. Moving his hips, and rocking back and forth. I saw several women with dollar bills struggle towards the front of the stage, arms out. Waiting for their chance to touch the hypnotic man who was in front of them. My beer was knocked out of my hand from the elbow of an elderly woman, as she pushed her way to the front of the stage. The men behind Mr. silver g-string pulled off their shirts and pants showing us all black satin thongs that sparkled with the lights. They all stepped in uniform to the beat, like backstreet boys in the raw. I was mesmerized by the dancing sacks, and I had to take a drink of Lula's Margarita to help me process what was happening in front of me. I had to say, Ernie had a good thing going here.  
I was beginning to wonder if we would be trampled by the crowd of desperate housewives. Lula and Connie were up on top of their chairs so they could have a better view. Being not entirely sober I thought that was a good idea, and I stepped onto my chair, nearly falling. If I fell on my face tonight, at least I would have a good excuse. Lula was jiggling around, dancing as best she could on a tiny chair. Getting a much better view of the dancing man with the fire hose than I was. He was on his knees, fire hose in hand, moving with the fast pace of the music. Lula screamed out "Yeah baby, come on! We wanna see you explode!"  
Mr. silver g-string turned the fire hose on. Water came out in a force so powerful, that he lost control. It appeared that it was an accident by the shocked look on his face. I don't actually think it was supposed to be still attached to a working connection. He turned the hose on the crowd to find a way to turn it back off. The crowds of women in front of us were trying to get out-of-the-way as the hose came in contact. The music kept pumping as the men on stage tried to finish the act and use the water as part of the show. The fire hose slipped out of silver g-strings grip when he turned the lever the wrong way, blasting us full force with water. I was launched off my stool and onto two women that were behind me. I grabbed for Connie, Connie grabbed for Lula, and we all tumbled onto the floor with a crash. All around us, were people losing their battle with the fire hose gone wild. I don't think anyone realized there was a pressure gauge and shut off valve on the nozzle. I scrambled to get up, the club was flooded with water. Emergency lights were going on. G-string was still onstage, struggling to jump on top of the hose and get it under control, His silver loincloth flapping around giving anyone who cared a full view of his undercarriage. The two men on stage with him, tried in vain to grab the hose and were washed off stage knocking into us, throwing us back down on top of each other. Lula pulled Connie to her feet just as; Whoosh, the water came back around again knocking them back over again and picking me up and throwing me across the room into the wall.  
We all stayed down until real fireman came into the club and shut the water off.  
I shimmied up the wall. I dripped out to the curb, ringing my shirt out,pulling off my boots to pour water out. There were four fire trucks and five ambulances' pulled up in the parking lot. I watched as a crowd of people filed out of the doors of the club. Most were disheveled and soaking wet. It didn't take long to spot Connie and Lula. Connie was walking with a limp. She was getting a decent black eye. Lula had only one high heel on and half her dress was missing. She had a towel wrapped around her waist, in an attempt to hide what the good Lord had given her.  
"What the hell happened in there?" Lula said. "One minute we are all ready to see a real show, and then whoosh! Water everywhere. We're lucky we weren't killed! What were they thinking having a real fire hose go off in there? They'll be lucky if someone doesn't sue their ass over that crap!" Lula was trying to hold herself in the dress, but it wasn't working. Her Boobs kept falling out. "I need to stop off at my house if we are going anyplace else. I'm not going anywhere like this."  
We all went our separate ways in an attempt at dry clothes. They were both coming back to my apartment. It would be a girl's night in.  
Connie brought over Pino's pizza, and Lula brought the beer. We stood in the kitchen while we ate. Connie had a shiner the size of a baseball. "It was the black loincloth guy that elbowed me. Good thing he was cute". She said.  
"So, that was your car on the flatbed the other night?" Connie said. "What happened? Don't say it's a long story. We're here; we want to know what's going on with you. You never just want to leave town. You've just made a deal with that creepy cousin of yours. You better have a real good reason to leave, especially when I could use your help with the office. "  
I told them about Rangers theory of a sniper, and how the people in the other car acted. I also told them about the dead guy in the back seat.  
"So you think someone was shooting at you? I thought everyone you've pissed off was either dead or in prison."  
"I don't know who I could have pissed off this time."I said.  
Connie's eyes got big. "You know, Tony the Tool is in town. Maybe it was him that shot at you." She was nodding her head up and down. "Or, maybe he was trying to shoot someone else and you got in the way. You could be an innocent bystander."  
Lula and I looked at her sideways.  
"It could happen. Right, Stephanie? I mean, how many times can someone shoot at you and miss?"  
We all thought about that.  
I had to ask, even though I really didn't want to know. "Who is Tony the Tool?" (Hoping it was a plumber or something.)  
"What I wanna know," Lula piped in "Is why he is called "The Tool?"  
Connie went on to tell us that Tony the Tool was a hit man from New York. She didn't know why he was called "The Tool". She didn't want to find out, either. She also said he's only hired when there is a special "problem" that needs to be "fixed."  
I really hoped I was not that "Special". Or a "Problem" that needed to be "fixed".  
I told them about what happened with Joe and his "walking disaster" comment. By the time I finished the story, even I was feeling like he may have had a point, especially reviewing the events of tonight. Even though things were not my fault, they still blew up all around me, and even on me. What kind of wife could I make for someone? I grew up traditional. You get married, you have kids, you have holiday parties and dinners for Christmas. You have a Christmas tree. Easter egg hunts. You do dishes, and cook. All those things, I just figured would come naturally. They would just happen, but they haven't. I still cook everything in the microwave and have a running tab at the deli. Connie and Lula are my friends. But I think they must have found some truth in his statements, or they would have said something. Instead we were silent. Looking at the empty pizza box, and taking another drag off the beer. I guess that maybe I had been a walking disaster after all. Shit.  
"Stephanie, I don't care if it's true or untrue. You don't go around telling girls they are disasters. It could ruin their whole life. I think Joe is a real asshole for saying that to you."  
She reached over, and hugged me.  
Lula said I could borrow her little black book. There were some fine men in that book, since she was not going to use it for a while. (Tank and Lula were getting pretty close), I could take it. It was nice of her, but I didn't think that I wanted any book, black or otherwise.  
I wanted Joe. I wanted to erase the last couple days. "Life would be more simple if there were do-over's."  
"Maybe." Connie said. "But in your case, I am not so sure. "  
We drank the rest of the night away. Tank picked up a very drunk Lula at 2am; Connie hitched a ride home with them. Rex and I stayed in rest of the night, wrapped up in Joe's T-shirt. I wasn't ready to face that we were through just yet.  
The middle of August in Trenton is nothing to sneeze at. It is hot and muggy. Uncomfortable to wear more than nothing. If we could all walk around nude, it wouldn't be so bad. I was getting good at lying low. Many nights I stayed at Mary Lou's house, some nights at my parents, I even spent a couple of nights at Lula's. I wasn't much company, and I was in a horrible mood. Ranger was in the wind. He was out of the country. I think he was keeping his distance from me. Maybe because I was now, and probably in the future, unattached to Morelli. Or maybe he actually was working, and it was a coincidence. I knew if I needed anyone or anything, I could call Tank. No one had tried to shoot at me, and Vinnie was personally taking all the apprehension work. I was helping just enough to keep my rent paid. Joe didn't call. I didn't call him either. I carefully avoided driving down his street, even though I wanted to. New Jersey was pulling itself through another summer; I was just floating along for the ride.  
Vincent Plum Bail Bonds was moving to a two-story strip mall location on 4th avenue. Vinnie signed the papers to take over rent on an older building on the outskirts of downtown Scottsdale. We would be next to a laundromat, and a check cashing station. The first floor was a 900 square foot area, with a small office in the back. Stairs facing the back lot of the building go up to the second floor, where there was a studio apartment with 2 bedrooms. I couldn't believe I was going to be living in the same space as Vinnie, the family pervert. What was I thinking? I felt like I would break out in hives at any moment.  
Everything I owned was in storage. I had cleaned out my apartment. It held plenty of great memories, but also held some truly terrifying ones. Rex wasn't going with me. I didn't want him to have to travel across country. I asked Mary Lou if she would watch him for me while I was gone. She had two kids who would adore a little hamster. I would miss him, but I thought he would be happier in Jersey.  
When I told my parents I was leaving for a while, my mother panicked. Moving was one thing, moving across country was completely crazy. She told me to call when I came to my senses and she would send me a bus ticket home. My Dad was concerned that I was putting too much faith in one of his relatives, but was secretly proud of me for getting out of Jersey and looking for something else. Hell, my sister lived in California for years. I could do this. The Police were concerned about the couple from the accident that had been in the other car. I guess they had left the police station when no one came in to talk to them for an hour. They hadn't been seen since. Although no bodies had washed up, so I wasn't to concerned. I would have left also. I hadn't seen Joe. I didn't know if he knew I was leaving, but he never called. I figured that was a pretty final goodbye. He was keeping his distance. I suppose it was the right thing to do when you have chosen to end a relationship for good.  
I took a good look at my apartment for the last time, and shut the door. Locking it. Ranger was leaning against the wall in the hall, waiting for me. I hadn't seen him since the night he sat with me on the couch. His hair was longer than usual, falling just above his eyes. He had on his work clothes. Rangeman black. T-shirt, cargo pants, boots, gun strapped into his belt. I knew from working with him, he also carried a gun at his back and a knife in his boot. He appeared relaxed, but I know firsthand, relaxed Ranger is dangerous.  
"Yo" I said. Finishing locking the door. "This is a surprise. I thought you were on some secret mission. Gone for weeks. At least that was what Tank told me."  
Ranger's mouth twitched, and a little smile peeked out.  
"I wasn't gone, I was unavailable. "  
"As in unavailable for everyone, or unavailable for me?" I said  
"Unavailable for you. Are you really going to Scottsdale? Or is it temporary insanity?"  
"Unavailable for me?" I repeated, crossing my arms in front of me.  
"I didn't think you needed me to get in the middle of whatever was happening between you and Morelli. So I stayed out of it."  
"You let Tank lie to me? What if I needed something?" I was getting slightly irritated at his smug attitude. What, did he stay away because I was an emotional wreck? Ok, maybe he had a point.  
Ranger's eyebrows rose. "Did you need something?"  
"No." Maybe. "But, that's not the point!" I was having a difficult time explaining why I was pissed. Maybe I was angry because Ranger wouldn't let me forget about Joe by having lots of unbridled sex with him, which is exactly what I would have done, if he had been around. Ok, so maybe that would have made things more confusing.  
Ranger was quietly waiting for me to get a grip, and figure everything out. He knew as well as I did, that using him to try to push Joe out of my head, wouldn't be healthy for either of us. Plus, I didn't want to use sex to make it go away. Ok, maybe I did. But I guess he had a point. I did a mental frustrated sigh, because knowing Ranger was usually right, really pissed me off. I had a hard time arguing with him. He always ended up making sense, and I always ended up looking like an idiot.  
"Yes. I might be temporarily insane." I said, changing the subject. "When Vinnie brought it up, Scottsdale seemed like a good idea. No one knows me in Arizona."  
"So, you think moving across the country will solve your problems?"  
"No, but I can't be here now. All I want to do is hide in my apartment and cry. I wasn't expecting Joe to end our relationship like that. I can't sit here in Jersey, and watch him go on with his life. It hurts, and I don't think it's healthy. Maybe I do need to be alone for a while. Plus, there might still be a sniper out looking for ways to kill me. I'm getting tired of running, hiding, getting shot at, destroying cars, and buildings. None of those things happen to normal people. None of those things really ever even happen to you."  
"I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you'll never be normal. Your way above normal. Trust me, it's a good trait. Keep it. Those things do happen to me. Just not as much."  
"Not only that," I said. Getting more frustrated. "I'm tired of being on tape doing stupid shit. Being laughed at. I want to be good at something. If I leave I can concentrate on working on my skills, without someone calling my mother and telling her about it all the time."  
Ranger came over to me, and slid his hands under my shirt wrapping them around my waist, pulling me to him.  
"You think leaving will make you good at something?"  
It was hard to keep a serious conversation about being an emotional flop, when he had his hands in my shirt.  
I tried to concentrate. "Maybe, I could work on it better without an audience."  
He cupped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me close to him, and kissed me. He was good at a lot of things. This was one of them. I felt heat rush down my body, as he pulled me in closer. My fingers instinctively grasped at his shirt, and I pressed myself against him. If I could just get my key out of my back pocket. We didn't need a bed, right? I had vacuumed, the apartment was completely clean. All I needed was a wall, or a floor or even the kitchen counter.  
He broke from the kiss. I was breathing hard. Trying to find which pocket I had the key in.  
"What are you doing?" He said to me.  
"Trying to find the fricken' key to the apartment, what do you think I'm doing?"  
He smiled one of those killer smiles he held out for special occasions. "You want me bad."  
Well, yeah I did, I was breaking a sweat!  
"Tank is waiting for me in the car."  
Are you kidding me?  
"Then why the hell did you kiss me like that?"  
Mrs. Griswaldi opened her door and looked out. "Are you almost finished out there? I really want to hear my program. Maury Povitch is on, and he is talking to Lesbians. I never get a chance to see them on T.V."  
"Yes, we were just leaving." I said. Grabbing my bag off the floor and adjusting my shirt.  
I hit the button for the elevator and waited with Ranger beside me. I supposed having goodbye gorilla sex with Ranger may have led me to not really want to go to Scottsdale at all. I could completely blow everything off. But then what? Get the apartment back? Have great sex all the time, maybe even constantly with a man who did not want more than that? It sounded good right now, but what about a week from now? OK. Be realistic here, what about a month from now? Or a year? Yeah, I think a year of constant great sex with Ranger would be about right before I started questioning our relationship.  
I would really miss him. Not just the way he oozed sex appeal and innuendos. It was the walk, and his way of doing things. Ranger had been a really good confidant. A friend, and a gifted lover. If one thing could keep me in Trenton, It was definitely how I felt about him. He walked me out to big blue, and kissed me again.  
"You are good at a lot of things, Babe. Don't think your problems are going to go away in Scottsdale. Call me if you need anything. I can't step foot into Arizona without red flags going off, but I have some people out there who can help if you need them to.  
"Do you still think there might be someone taking shots at me?"  
"We haven't picked up anything more than Connie's lead on The Tool being in town, and that could mean a lot of things. It's been a while, nothing has come of it, so looks like you're in the clear."  
He kissed me again, and got into the Mercedes with Tank. I waived at both of them, and got into the Buick and motored over to my parents house for a going away party.  
It was Noon the next day when we left for Scottsdale. Rex was safe with Mary Lou, and I promised to come home for Christmas and see him. She promised to keep his cage clean and make sure he was happy. It was strange leaving. I had gone to college for a while, but never was I to far away to come home for the night if I needed to. Neither Ranger nor Joe came to say goodbye. Giving me the opportunity to just get out there, and jump off that roof again.


	5. Chapter Five

I checked my watch. Eleven pm. I stretched. I thought it might be Wednesday. We've traveled nearly 2,000 miles across the country. I picked up the map book. It was dog-eared. The cover had torn off when we had left it on the hood of the moving van on route 470. I took my penlight out of the glove compartment and checked our route. We were in New Mexico, and I was running ragged. I had never been this close to wanting to strangle Vinnie before. I had no idea how Lucille had tolerated him for as long as she did. We have been on the road for three days straight, stopping at rest areas, sleeping at truck stops and eating at all night diners. Vinnie wouldn't stop singing along with the radio, and telling dirty jokes. It was literally driving me insane. I wanted out of the van so bad, I was willing to hook up with a traveling circus if it would get me away from him. What the hell was I thinking? My stomach had never felt this horrible, my brain was fried, and my hair was a rat's nest. I hadn't had a good night's sleep since we left Trenton.  
Ranger's words came back to me. He had asked me if this idea to move to Scottsdale was temporary insanity. Yes! it had been. I already was conspiring how long it would take me to get back home with the promised bus ticket. I leaned back in the seat staring up at the ceiling of the van. Let's see. I would get on the bus, be back in a week, have no apartment, and no job. People would say,"Hey, didn't you move to Arizona?" Then I would have to tell them I couldn't tolerate my cousin. And then, well then, they would look at me like I was an idiot. Worse than that, No Joe. I would die sad and lonely. An old maid. Agh. I thunked my head against the dashboard. Get a grip, Stephanie.  
I glanced in the rear view mirror. I instantly regretted it. Vinnie was up against the truck, and a bad dye-job hooker was on her knees doing the crotch bop with him. Could this get much worse? I tried hard not to throw up, the image was still burning in my head, even when I closed my eyes. I looked over at the drivers side, the keys were still in the ignition. I slid over and turned the key. I put it the van in gear and started rolling away. I checked the rear-view mirror again. Vinnie was trying to run after the van, pulling up his pants and screaming obscenities at me. The hooker was standing where the truck had been, arms crossed, looking upset. He tried to pull his pants up and run at the same time, but he fell over. I stopped long enough for him to get into the truck. I took off with his door still open.  
"What the hell, Stephanie!"  
"I swear to God, Vinnie, If you ever do that in front of me again, I will leave you there."  
We drove into Scottsdale the next day. The air conditioner in the van was on full, and it wasn't cutting it. The afternoon was just beginning, and the temperature in the truck was rising. We had gotten through New Mexico and Arizona before the sun came up. It had been warm at 3am. But this was beyond what I considered hot. We drove down streets lined with newer cars and trucks, that seemed to me should have melted where they sat. All windows open just a little so that the heat of the car had somewhere to go. The stores and shops were clearly tourist driven. According the map, we were in Old Town. Decorated like the old west with trading posts, Indian jewelry shops, and clothing stores meant to attract seasonal shoppers. We moved through town, driving down Drinkwater. I thought that was a perfect name, and exactly what I wanted. Water. I was lacking moisture. My mouth felt like the desert itself. I had already finished off all the water we had.  
We drove through downtown, went up 5th avenue. Shops turned into stores and mini malls. I searched the map for 4th street. Finally finding it, we drove through looking for the building. I did not see any people. I had an idea that most sane people stayed indoors till the sun went down. I think I was getting a sunburn through the glass of the window, and I moved away from it . We both looked out at the building that would house us and "Vincent Plum Bail Bonds." It was placed on the end of a long row of strip businesses attached together with common walls. a concrete sidewalk and a wood awning shaded the front of the building from some of the sun's damaging heat. Vinnie was right about the Laundromat being next door. The check cashing place was 3 doors down. Next door was vacant. There was a few cars in the parking lot. Mostly for the laundromat and the liquor store on the opposite corner. This was not a big business area. I took a deep breath. No one was out to get me here. This was a great incentive .Vinnie used a key and opened up the door. If this was going to be my next phase of life, I needed to make the best of it.  
Between Vinnie and I, we had the entire office set up and ready for doing business in two weeks flat. This was a resort town. Golf was big here. Most of the bond business would be low. Coming mostly from rich golf pros and executives that had too much to drink and drove home drunk. There was ten other bond agencies in Scottsdale. All were older businesses, who had been here for 20 or more years. People would go to them before they would come to us.  
It was a lot different from Trenton. Trenton was a big town with a lot of heritage. Families never left. People who grew up there, for the most part, stuck around. Grandparents were close to parents, who were close to their kids. Close knit. A community. Chambersburg was definitely on that level. Scottsdale was a city that was new. I doubted there were nosy neighbors and phone tree action here. People who lived here, usually came from somewhere else. There were some who grew up and grew old in this town, but it was about two percent of the overall population and maybe a quarter of a percent that got in any kind of trouble. I tried not to concentrate on the facts, and instead did what I needed to do to get myself a license to apprehend in the state of Arizona. Vinnie had just ordered the new sign that was going to be placed outside above the door. For now we had a canvas sign that had been pre-ordered before we arrived.  
"Vincent Plum Bail Bonds" was now in business. I found out Arizona does not have many bail bondsmen and enforcement laws to obey. Bail recovery agents have to submit a set of fingerprints, have a criminal background check on record at the police department, and be identified in a report filed by a licensed bail bonds agent. Vinnie. No training or licenses required, except for your gun. They also suggest you register with the Dept. of Insurance. I doubted we would ever get around to doing that. They also suggest you take a police tactical training course. Vinnie refused, but I signed up. I could use the training.  
October was fast approaching. I was getting ready to go check out the Scottsdale mall. Camilla Jones was my FTA. She worked at Carl Stratton's Hair Salon. It was located on the second floor of the Scottsdale Mall. The bond was small, But we couldn't be out money right now. I have had some luck with mall apprehensions. Some bad luck and a little good luck. What's good about being at the mall, is if you can't find who you're looking for, you can always go shopping. I was hoping this would go down smoothly. A hair stylist. What could go wrong? I picked up a magazine from the table next to the receptionist desk. A girl of about 15 was filing her well manicured nails and trying to look busy. There were five stylists, all with clients. My hair was pretty fried out from the Sun, I felt I had a believable excuse to want to see Camilla Jones.  
"Can I help you?" she said smartly. Checking out her latest text message as she spoke.  
"I would like to get my hair trimmed. Maybe do something different with it."  
"Hum.." She eyed my hair. "What happened to it?"  
My hand lifted to my head. I had it up in a pony tail. I looked in the mirror, It was completely in frazzle mode. If I didn't get it some help soon, I may have to shave my head and start over. She flipped through the appointment calendar on the computer.  
"We can put you with Sharon now, if you would like. She is free until after three. She's great. She does all my extensions." I looked at her hair. I hadn't even noticed she had extensions.  
"How long is your hair without the extensions?" I said  
"Well, My hair is actually cut just above my ears. I like to keep it super short so I can add hair and make it as long as I want."  
Her hair was a combination of light blond,hot pink and black.  
"I love all the colors."  
"Yeah, my boyfriend," She paused trying to collect a thought. "Well, he said that I should have my hair in three shades. He said If I wanted to ever be anyone , I had to have statement hair."  
"What about Miss Jones?" I said. "I have heard so many great things about her. Does she do extensions too?"  
"Camilla? Um.. "  
Just as she said that, the woman who Camilla was working on, jumped out of her chair.  
"What are you trying to do? Kill me with those scissors? You just about cut my ear off."  
Camilla was trying to calm the woman down. "I'm so sorry! I have been under a lot of pressure lately. My hand just slipped."  
The receptionist ran over to the woman but it was too late. She stormed out of the salon. "You better believe I am reporting this on Yelp!"  
"The receptionist looked at me, Well. I think she is available now."  
There was no way I was letting her scalp me. I walked over to Camilla Jones and gave her my card, and handcuffed her. She was still in shock over the almost scalping, so she didn't put up much of a fight.  
"Its my boyfriend." She said, as we walked to the Jeep. "He is the reason I got arrested, He called the cops on me after he said I stabbed him with my scissors. Honestly, I just got nervous. He was telling me how he wanted his hair cut. I just got out of cosmetology school, this is my first job. I was practicing on him." She said. "When he yelled at me , I accidentally stabbed him. It could happen to anyone, really."  
"So why didn't you go to court?"  
"I didn't want to go to jail. They probe you for drugs and stuff. I couldn't face the humility."  
"Maybe he will come to his senses and drop the charges."  
"You think so? Well, Maybe after he gets out of the hospital, I will ask him."  
"Yikes."  
I would need to remember not to ever let her cut my hair.  
We motored over to the Scottsdale Police Department. My cell phone rang. The number came up restricted. Not many people had restricted numbers anymore. It was Ranger.  
"Yo." I said casually.  
"I can't protect you in Arizona."  
"I never asked you to."  
"I have an outstanding weapons charge in Nevada and Arizona. My lawyers are working on it.  
"Ok, So it's like a no fly zone for you?"  
I could sense him smile on the other end of the phone.  
"I have one man in Scottsdale. Kyle Reese. He can help, you if you get into trouble. He can also give you some self-defense classes if you feel like you need them. I will have the office send you the cell phone number to your email address. He's already is aware you're in Scottsdale."  
"Who is he, again?"  
"He and I have worked together before. He's trustworthy on a professional level."  
"On a professional level?"  
"On a professional level, yes. Very trustworthy. With you, no."  
"What's that suppose to mean?"  
"Babe."  
Ranger hung up. What the hell was that?  
Our first high bond case came in two weeks later. Both of us knew instantly that Thomas Garvey would not show up for his court case. His girlfriend walked in with two little kids in tow. She had a black eye, and was missing some teeth. Her hand was bandaged up and she was limping. As far as I knew, that meant only one thing. While she talked to Vinnie about how to go about getting her boyfriend out of jail, I looked up Thomas Garvey. He was listed as a flight risk. His bond was high. The court was assuming that he could easily run. Bail was set at three hundred thousand big ones. His record had shown that he was arrested for domestic abuse, and it had happened five times before. No shock there. When the police arrived, he barricaded himself in the house with the girl and her kids. It took a team of eight to get him out. When they arrested him, they found he was high on PCP. Thomas Garvey wasn't from Arizona. He was from Minnesota. He had only his girlfriend, as a tie to the area. I thought it was a really risky. Vinnie and I were not exactly ready to pick up a client such as this. Vinnie bonded him out anyway. He said sometimes you needed to take chances. Plus he felt between us, we could pick him up if we needed too. I was not as confident on that one as he was.  
I signed up for self-defense classes at a local business that held the classes once a week. In an upstairs loft of a book store. The first day, I broke the instructors nose. I decided if I could get him with an elbow, there was not a lot he could teach me. It was getting close to Thomas Garvey's court case. I started keeping an eye on him. The more I watched his movements; Girlfriends house, the golf range, the gym, the gun range, the gym and back to the girlfriends house; the more I wanted a better gun. He just seemed dangerous. I bought a Sig Sauer P229. I had asked some of the nicer cops at the police station what they suggested. I got the same answer from all of them. The Sig Sauer was the first choice for law enforcement. I don't really know how well they thought I could do this job, but when I kept bringing in FTA's, they started talking to me. I went to the shooting range once a week to get more comfortable with the gun. No one had my back out here, and I wanted to remember that.  
I bought a Jeep CJ-7 with Four Wheel drive and a V-8. I wanted something that would move me through the desert when I needed to go off-road, chasing someone. It was black, and it was cool. I mostly wanted it so I could drive around with the top off. This time, I had the truck checked out by a local mechanic before I bought it. It was old, but it was solid.  
We started getting more clients after an ad in the Scottsdale paper came out, or It could be because Vinnie went to all the strip clubs and handed out his card. We were a favorite of porn stars, strippers and hookers. One thing about those girls, they needed to work. They were low risk bonds. I worked the computer and did the paperwork for Vinnie. He was mostly scouting for new clients, in other words, he was hanging out at the strip clubs. Vincent rented a house near the Scottsdale mall. It was a one story styled for withstanding the heat of the desert. and had a red tile roof top and a 2 car garage. The front was pretty, but it was sparse. It had a small front yard and a cactus rock garden with a slightly larger back yard. A small patio and a Jacuzzi sat by the back window. I decided to let Vinnie have the house, I would stay with the apartment. It was cheaper, and I liked the roof. You could see almost all Scottsdale from that vantage point.  
I missed Jersey. New places are great, but it's not home. I joined a gym, then after two weeks, decided I hated the gym and canceled the membership. I tried Yoga. I couldn't find my calm center. I finally called Ranger's man, Kyle Reese. I thought maybe he could give me some tactical instruction. He had a studio downtown. He asked that I meet him after classes were over. While I waited, I went next door to a coffee-house. They had doughnuts, so I bought three. They had Boston Cream. I had to remember where this place was.  
Kyle Reese was a bad ass. I watched him take down every one of his students. He was teaching a class on technical take-downs. All the men looked like they could hold their own. I sat on one of the chairs and ate my doughnut and watched him . He was about Six foot two. Probably in his late 30's. You could tell His students had a huge amount of respect for him. On all the walls of most dojo's I had been in, were trophies, ribbons, pictures, and awards. This one had none of those things. Just a sign outside stating his business " Place of the Way" and a list of classes available. Next to his office door there was one picture. I walked over, and looked at it. It was a 8x10 picture of a squad of men. I picked him out, because he was standing beside the squad, and he had on a different color uniform. I also picked out a few faces I had seen before. Tank. And Hal. Not only them, Ranger. There he was, second from the right, standing at attention. He was younger, and looked scarier than he did now. All the men looked like trouble. I took another bite of my doughnut and for some reason; I wanted a copy of this picture. I looked around for a copier. Most offices had them. Kyle was standing behind me.  
"You must be Stephanie. No one else would even consider swiping that picture off my wall."  
I smiled and shook his hand. Trying to swallow my doughnut.  
"Ranger told me some things about you," He said smiling.  
He had my attention. "What did he say?"  
"He said you could use my help. You were undisciplined, you ate poorly, you hated guns, and you couldn't hold your liquor, but that I would like you anyways."  
I took the last piece of doughnut and ate it. Then wiped my hands on my jeans.  
"Oh yeah? That's what he said, huh?"  
"He also said you were a good judge of character; you had a knack for finding people, that you could hold your own when it came to taking people down and I could trust you." His eyebrows rose. "He also said you were off-limits."  
"He said that, did he?" I had heard him say that before, It was a pet peeve of mine. It really pissed me off.  
He smiled. "I don't listen to Ranger much. But I do owe him. It is because of me that he can't come to Arizona."  
Finding someone who has known Ranger for a while, and talked about it? This might be the start of a great friendship.  
Kyle wanted me to start coming to the studio twice a week. He said he could teach me how to subdue people quicker and not have to rely on guns as much. Using my body as a weapon could be just as effective, especially in an up-close situation. Of course he suggested I dump my bad food and dessert habits. They would slow me down.  
I called Ranger.  
"I understand you think I am undisciplined, and that I can't hold my liquor."  
"Kyle was being kind. I also said you were stubborn, hard-headed, and you were a pain the ass."  
"Just to be clear. You told him I was off-limits, too."  
"I asked him to help you, not hand him a snack."  
I would seriously need to think about that last remark.  
I didn't know how Vinnie did it, but he was getting clients. Most of the cases we were getting were pretty easy. We were a small agency, and according to one woman, "she didn't want any of her husband's golf buddies to find out she had been arrested for drunk driving, so she came to us." When she didn't show up for court, I found her at the mall under a hair dryer. After promising she wouldn't go to jail for a first offense, I brought her in. She told her friends about us, and we ended up with a lot a business from word of mouth.  
I felt like I was getting better at apprehension. Although, how hard was it to apprehend a drunk hooker, a sleeping drug dealer, or a paraplegic? It still gave me confidence. Kyle Reece started training me on take down, and better ways to apprehend people. So far I didn't need these skills, but if I did, I would have them.  
The paper came in on Thomas Garvey. It meant it was time to step up to the plate and do our job. He hadn't shown up for court. Vinnie was sweating, and not from the heat. Both of us knew he would skip. We had monitored him, and we had both staked out his girlfriends place on several occasions. This would be our first real take down in Scottsdale. I was nervous. I went to the gun range more often and I spent more time training with Kyle. We had been to Karen Arnold's house. She had moved out a week before. No one in the neighborhood had seen Mr. Garvey. I worked on the computers trying to find leads with the search programs we had. Nothing was showing up for him.  
Garvey drove silver BMW. Karen Arnold had put up a set of Eight thousand dollar golf clubs as part of collateral for the bond. I checked the clubs, sure enough, the tag on the bag said it had belonged to Garvey. It also gave an address he did not have on file. I showed the tag to Vinnie. 1012 Country Club Way. As far as we knew, Garvey didn't have a job, or a residence at this address.  
It's the best lead we had for him. I drove through town, searching for the address. It was not on my GPS. I decided to drive to the largest of the many golf clubs and ask around. When I drove through the gates, there was a booth with a guard. He asked me for my ID and what I needed. I told him who I was, and that I was looking for 1012 Country Club Way. He gave me a map of the resort. He pointed it out. "It's the main road through the resort. 1012 is the main building. It is where all the caddie's hang out, and store their clubs. He gave me a guest pass, and sent me through the gate with directions. He said there would be someone to meet me at the clubhouse. I called Vinnie and asked him to meet me.  
Trent Holden was my man. He was waving furiously as I drove up to the building. "Welcome!" he said with a positively polite voice. What can I help you with today?"  
"I am looking for a man who may work here. His name is Thomas Garvey."  
"Why, sure, he works here. He is one of the caddie's we have available here at Hacienda Country Club. Very sought after by all the pro golfers that come to play. Are you looking to take lessons?"  
"Not exactly. You see, Trent. I need to find Mr. Garvey because he missed a court date, and we really need to get him back to make another appointment."  
"Oh, that silly thing. Well Tommy told us it was all just a misunderstanding, and he had taken care of it. He even let us know that the money the club put up for the bond, would be returned this coming Friday."  
"He did?" Boy, they were in for a big surprise.  
"Well, If you could just point me in his general direction, I will need to speak with him about this."  
A man matching Thomas's description walked out of the door of the building. I saw him, and he froze. The moment I took a step towards him to took off for the golf carts. His red golf cart drove by us at what I am assuming was "high speed" in one of these, or in laymen's terms , 20 miles per hour. He pointed a gun at me as he drove away towards the greens.  
"Well, I think that's him, but where is he going?" Trent said.  
I took off running after it. Golf carts are not that fast, but I was breathing hard trying to catch up. Garvey tried to turn and shoot, but he dropped the gun. I ran up alongside and grabbed Garvey by his shirt and pulled him out of the cart with all my weight, which is not a whole hell of a lot compared to his two hundred and twenty five pound frame. We rolled together on the pavement and into the pond with a cascading waterfall. Ducks went in all directions. I held on tight to him as he struggled to get away. He punched me and I kicked him between the legs. He doubled over and I was able to handcuff him and drag him out of the water still holding himself. I had an audience of three security guards and Vinnie.  
"Geez,Stephanie. Is that one of your only moves? You could have waited for backup. At least he could have had children."


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter 6  
It was the middle of June. I was on the roof of my apartment. Ten months had just skated by. I didn't think about Joe everyday. Maybe every other day, but it definitely was getting better. June in Scottsdale, Arizona is hot. Not just "oh it's a little warm outside, but more of a scream when your feet fry on the sidewalk hot.  
I think I had it figured out. You have to be up early, finish everything you need to do outside by noon, or you could burst into flames. That's how I'm living now. Everything done by noon. You can't go outside until after eight PM. That's the way it is. Oh, I see other people moving around the city in the daytime, just not me. Not in June. Today was my day off. We kept the office open during the weekends, but unless there was a huge crowd of convicts who needed bail, you could manage the office on any given Wednesday alone. Today was Vinnie's turn. I had a plan. I had my lounge chair set up on the roof of the office, my iPod, my water mister, my ear-buds. Plus an ice chest with beer, water, and plenty of ice, and because I was listening (sort of) to Kyle, I had some grapes with my meatball sub.  
I was going to get a tan. I bought a new bikini just for this and I was attempting not to burn in all the wrong places. There are lots of wrong places to burn. Between your thighs is not a good place. Under your boobs, not good. The top of your foot, also not a great place, and your butt. Very painful. Of course, your bikini line. That's the worst. As I was adjusting myself, I put down my beer, and the bottle exploded. I froze mid adjust. I knew exactly what was happening. My life caught up with me and came back into focus. Oh Shit.  
I needed to move my backside off the chair. I grabbed my bag and flipped the lounge chair over, hiding behind it. It was only plastic and I knew instantly that this chair had absolutely no intention of keeping me safe. Unless something revolutionary happened after I graduated, plastic does not stop bullets. Realizing this did nothing for my pounding heart. The stairs leading back downstairs to the apartment and office were about forty feet from where I was. I could still hear the music from the iPod. I pulled the ear-buds out of my ears. Having theme music is OK, but "Enter the Sandman" might not be the right choice when trying to stay alive. I ran for it. Gun shots came in two different directions, hitting the ground around me. The shots ricocheted off the ground hitting the sand from the roof and spitting it back at me. I kept my head down and focused on the stairs. My iPod dropped and exploded as a bullet hit. I barreled down the stairs, keeping myself in the shadow between the roof and the apartment below. I needed a weapon. My gun was in the apartment. I crept down the stairs, slowly. I tried to remember what Kyle had taught me about using my body as a weapon, but my brain was failing to remember anything past "Oh crap!"  
I cautiously opened the apartment door and stood against the wall. Slowly, I crept inside. The apartment was calm and quiet. I pulled the shades down and found my gun. I grabbed my clothes. I pulled on my skirt and shirt on in the hallway, away from any place that had a window. My chucks were next to the front door. I laced them up quickly, trying to keep my breathing under control and watching all points of entry. I knew that If anyone was in the building, they would be either in the hallway or downstairs in the office. I checked my Sig for bullets, and put another clip in my bag. My Kevlar vest was in Vinnie's office. Vinnie, I thought, where was he? Dead? He had to have heard shots. Maybe he had already dialed 911. My phone was still on the roof. I opened the door and slowly stepped out into the stairwell. My gun was drawn and my finger was slightly away from the trigger. The stairway was empty. I put my back to the wall and stepped down, making sure I could see below and above. I checked Vinnie's office first, it was empty. I put the vest over my shirt. I wondered why they didn't make body suits with this stuff for these situations. Oh, wait, most people were not in these situations.  
I looked around. Surprised at what was in front of me. The front office looked bad. Cabinets were knocked over, the computer lie broken on the floor, files were dumped. The front door was leaning askew. It had been kicked in. The entire office had been destroyed as if someone were searching for something.  
I didn't see any signs of blood, drag marks, or bullet holes in the main office. Maybe Vinnie got away. I felt a little relief wave roll over me. I was hoping he went to the house. I picked up the phone in his office. It was dead. Not good. I picked up the keys for the Jeep and crept out the door, staying as close to the building as possible. It was parked in the back of the office. Only twenty clicks from the back door. The back of the office had a thin alley, with a washed out black top surface and a gutter through the middle. It faced the back of neighboring businesses, with large dumpsters every fifty feet. I looked closely at the rooftops and trash dumpsters. This would be where most shooters would hide. I searched for movement, but I didn't see anything. As I palmed the key to the Jeep, I promised myself that I would get a car with auto locks next time. I ran for it and jumped in. A bullet hit one of the headlights, as I tore out of the parking lot. I screamed like a little girl. The Jeep was my baby. It had survived "Me" for almost a year; I had begun to get very attached. I truly hoped Vinnie was at the house. I couldn't think of a good explanation to give the Plum side of the family if I lost him.  
I drove through town at breakneck Jeep speed, which is close to about sixty. I took Camelback to Sixty-Eighth, and jumped the curb getting into the driveway. I wanted cover, so I hit the garage door opener and found myself staring at Joyce Barnhardt's fricken' Hummer. My heart almost stopped in my chest. Son of a bitch. I did some deep breathing to stop from freaking out. I jumped out of the truck and headed for the garage, accidentally on purpose keying her truck as I ran by. I hit the button to close the garage behind me, and raced into house. I stopped short. I came in at the wrong moment. Joyce was on another of my tables, this time doing the nasty with my cousin. I gagged.  
I was married for about 8 months to a cheating dog turd lawyer named Dickie Orr. I decided I wanted a divorce after finding the one and only Joyce Barnhardt, (my nemesis), on the kitchen table with Dickie. He was barking like a dog. Joyce and I have never been friends. She humiliated me constantly all though school, and again with my husband. She tries to be a bounty hunter sometimes, and gets her kicks from doing lewd sexual acts with animals. That's the the rumor at least.  
This must be one of those animals, and one of those times. I was horrified. I just stood there, mouth open. Waiting patiently for my brain to catch up with my eyeballs. I was unable to process the scene in front of me. Joyce turned and saw me and smiled.  
"Jesus Christ, Stephanie! Go away! Can't you see we are a little busy here?" Joyce was completely nude and humping away on top of my cousin. Vinnie was under her, leaning back and moaning. I started having visions of the last time this happened. I felt my blood pressure rise, my cheeks flush. "Geez." She said to Vinnie, who was clearly not even aware of the problem, and still moaning like a sick dog. "You would think she would have grown some manners already!"  
Vinnie was trying not to pay attention. He turned his head and saw me standing there. His eyes got wide. "Oh Shit." He said, then he closed his eyes again, trying to concentrate in the task at hand. His first priority was getting his rocks off, no matter who came in the door.  
Joyce laughed. "Look. Stephanie is having flashbacks, what a loser!"  
That was it! I snapped back from stupifed. It was possible I was holding on to a bit of anger from when this happened before. All I could see was red. She was going down. I pulled her naked, sweaty body off Vinnie by her hair with such force, Vinnie squealed. Yuck. He actually squealed! If I live a million years; I never wanted to hear my cousin squeal.  
"What the hell!" Joyce screamed. "You bitch! Let me go, you fuckin' cunt!"  
That was all she had to say. I tore her hair extensions out of her scalp as she fell to the floor, and I punched her in the face with all my might. She was out cold. I went for her again, wanting to get a few good kicks in while she was down, but someone pulled me off. I was rabid, freaking out. Arms flailing, trying to get back to the deconstruction of Joyce. I had no idea who had the balls to grab me, but I kicked them hard from behind, just as Kyle had taught me. I heard a grunt, and a "ohff" then they were down too. I turned to find Tank, down on one knee, holding himself. Trying not to throw-up. I just stood there stunned into silence. I had no idea what to say. Vinnie was still on the table, taking deep breaths. He was trying to get up to get some clothes so his little thing wasn't exposed to my wrath. There was only so much adrenaline a girl could hold onto. My brain kicked back in as I stood there. I tried to help Tank up.  
"I am so sorry". I moved a chair over so he could sit down. His face was purple, his eyes were watering. I sat down next to him. I was so surprised to see him I didn't know what to do, or what to think.  
I found an ice pack for him. His color was more bright red than purple now. Vinnie was at the table ogling Joyce's naked body. I hadn't bothered to cover her up yet, so I found a dirty towel and threw it over her just so Vinnie would stop. I stood with my back to the corner of the room, mostly to assess the damage I caused, but also so no one would shoot at me again.  
I cleared my throat in trying to find my voice. "Vinnie, what the hell happened? You were supposed to be at the office, working. It was my day off, remember? "  
He just stared at me like he had seen me for the first time. "I left for an early lunch. I yelled up to you to keep an eye on everything. I was taking a nooner, for Christ's sake. I thought you heard me. What's the big friggin' deal? No one had come in all day, the place was a ghost town. You came in here like a wild woman."  
I suppose my ear-buds could be to blame for that. I had them turned up a few notches above blow my eardrums out. I pointed to the creature that had passed out on the floor.  
"What the hell is Joyce doing in Scottsdale?"  
"Joyce Lives in Scottsdale, Stephanie. She has lived out here for almost a year and a half. I knew you'd be pissed, so I was being careful. So what? Sue me. I was having a good time."  
The thought of Joyce being in Scottsdale before we even came out here was incredible. How did I miss that? She has bright red hair, she's an eyesore! I never even suspected she was here. No prickly arm hairs, no squishy stomach, no feelings of dread. I had been out, around Scottsdale; never did I think I may have seen anyone that looked like her. It had just slipped by me. How was that possible? Was I walking around with blinders on?  
Vinnie interrupted my thoughts. "Are you going to tell me why you ruined my nooner here? What was so fricken' important that you freaked out like a little girl on us? Who's watching the office? I hope you locked up!"  
My eyes narrowed and my face felt hot. I'm Italian, mostly. I got angry fast. I balled up my fists. I wanted to cream him into juice. I tried to be a little rational. I already made two grown people fall down today.  
"Don't think for a minute, Vinnie that I would have been ok with Joyce Fucken' Barnhardt being here!" I tried to lower my voice, but It kept cracking and turning up a notch as I spoke, until I was screaming. "You knew she was in Scottsdale. This was planned! You know how I feel. You were hiding her, you little duck fucker. I was on the roof, thinking you were working. Someone starts shooting at me. They ransack the office. I had no idea where you were. I was worried about you. I was actually hoping no one kidnapped you again! To make it that much worse, I walk in and find Joyce screwing you on my table!"  
Vinnie's mouth dropped "Shit! This only happens when you're around, Stephanie. The office was ransacked? You left it? Did you even bother to call 911? This is your fault, it's always your fault. I can't believe this!"  
"My Fault!? Don't even go there, Vinnie." I could feel my hair almost to the point of smoking.  
"It always happens to you Stephanie, and now…."  
Vinnie Stopped. He saw my eyes turn to fire. He took a deep breath.  
"Whatever, Stephanie".  
I hated "Whatever" remarks. They were ok when I used them, but they really hit a nerve coming from someone else.  
"So let me get this straight. I leave for two seconds, and someone is shooting up the place and trashing the office? I can't leave you alone and go out for a nooner, for crying out loud. What did they take? Did you call the Police? Is the office locked? You know someone else will go in there and start shopping."  
I couldn't believe it. He was turning this around, I really thought it was all behind me. This was not my fault. I took a deep breath and tried to be rational.  
"I thought I was going to die. I grabbed the vest; I took the Jeep. I came here, to find you doing a goat and pony show with Joyce."  
I looked over at Tank.  
"And you? What are you doing here?"  
Tank is not a man of many words, especially when he has been kicked hard in the nads.  
"You're going to have to ask Ranger, I am just a messenger."  
"Great, ok, Sure." This was unbelievable. It had almost been a year. A year. I could have been proud of a year! I was thinking of ordering a cake. Now, No cake. No nothing. How had I missed the Joyce and Vinnie show for this long? I had felt like I had finally proven that I didn't need protecting. Then in ONE day, boom. Everyone and everything that I thought was put on a shelf came rolling back into my life.  
"I hate to ask, but can someone get me some more ice?" Tank pleaded. "I think I may have broken something here." Vinnie and I looked over at Tank. He looked swollen. Tank was in a lot of pain.  
We piled into Joyce's Hummer and took him to the hospital, leaving Joyce still sleeping it off on the kitchen floor. I called Ranger from Vinnie's phone and left a message about what happened. It was short and not very sweet. More or less I said, " We are taking Tank to the hospital. I kicked him."  
Why was Tank here? I had a bad feeling about all of this. I dropped Vinnie off with Tank at the hospital. I thought it only polite that I bring Joyce her truck back. When I got to the house, she was up sitting on a stool with ice on her eye where I hit her. I walked in cautiously.  
She glanced at me with her one good eye. "Sheesh. You got a great right hand. You knocked me flat with one punch."  
"You called me a cunt. I can't be responsible for what happens after a remark like that."  
"You know, Stephanie. I did sleep with Dickie because I hated you. But I actually am sorry about it."  
"I'm not." I said. "I'm glad that you did. I would have been miserable with him, you actually did me a favor."  
She took her keys and left.  
Vinnie called to let me know that Tank would be OK. "He just needs to stay away from people who kick him in the nuts for a while." He said.  
A taxi dropped Tank and Vinnie off at the house. Tank limped in, looked at me and smiled. "Damn,girl. You have been practicing." He shook his head. "I can't believe you tagged me. I should have been more careful. It has been a while since I was around you."  
"Where did Joyce go?" Vinnie said, looking around. "Did you kill her?"  
The thought had run through my mind on several occasions. I was thinking Joyce and I had come to a bit of an understanding. I think I had made my peace with that monster.  
"She said she had to get back home, but that she would call you later with" instructions".  
I watched Vinnie's eyes when I said that. They sparkled. I think he even started to sweat. I didn't want to know. I never wanted to know. The vision of the two of them together on the table will forever be in my head. That was enough for me.  
Tank sat at the kitchen table, still trying to get comfortable in his pants. He had a bottle of inflammatory pills and some pain killers. Poor Tank. I was back to ruining Rangers men. "I am really sorry about the kick thing. Not a good idea to get behind a girl when she is punching the shit out of someone she hates."  
"I'll remember that. Ranger sent me here to pick you up. He asked me to give you these." Tank stood up, and took an envelope out of his back pocket. "He said that things were starting to happen, and it wasn't safe in Scottsdale anymore. "  
Anymore? I didn't know I was in Scottsdale to be safe.  
"We are supposed to be on the 7pm flight outta here."  
I looked in the envelope, two tickets to fly to New Mexico. "What is in New Mexico?"  
Tank took a deep breath and blew it out. " Look. I know he didn't ask you before hand, but I would really appreciate it if you just come with me, so I don't have to go limping back without you. Think of it as a favor to me." He smiled. Kind of a little annoyed smile, but there it was.  
With people trying to shoot at me again, and Vinnie being out here with Joyce, I didn't see why I shouldn't take off. Maybe when I get back, Vinnie will have come to his senses.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter 7  
We boarded a baby airplane. To say it was small was a gross understatement. I had to duck to get in. I'm five foot seven. Clearly, not a giant. My heart was beating loud in my chest. The plane had four seats. Four! Room for the pilot, and three passengers. No co-pilot, no peanuts. Tank sat in the seat next to the pilot, mostly because he couldn't squeeze into one of the back seats. He is a big boy. Tank was all muscle. He was a six foot one solid black man. All buzz cut and biceps from what I could see. Tank made Ranger look like a featherweight. On the way to the Phoenix Airport, I had tried without success to get information about this "You're not safe" baloney. It was like talking to a wall. Once, he looked over at me and said "Do you have any Aspirins?" That was it. As if he never heard me. The baby plane took off. I white knuckled the chairs armrests. The plane shook and jolted and tipped a few times as it gained speed and momentum.  
"I thought Ranger liked you." I said. "Why would he risk you flying with me on this plane?"  
I didn't think that had crossed his mind, his face flushed a little. I had successfully stressed out a man who I thought was a rock.  
I tried again, with another approach. Hoping the fear of dying out here in the middle of BFE would make him talk. Tank has worked for Ranger since I started on this adventure of bonds enforcement. He rarely ever spoke. When he did, it was in one word sentences. Like, "No." or "Yes." Or his other large sentence. "Yes ma'am." and "Yes Sir." Or always my favorite "Run!"  
His real name was not "Tank". His mother would not have been that cruel, but she was cruel, as far as he was concerned. His name was Pierre. To him, it was a lot worse than Tank. I think Pierre is a family name. He is from the French Quarter in Louisiana. If I ever call him Pierre, he would never speak to me again.  
Lula hooked up with Tank last year. The last I heard, Lula was going to meet his mother. What happened at that meeting got sort of lost in the big empty which is my life. I missed Lula. I had been so busy trying to stay away; I had lost contact with her. I asked Tank about Lula and what was going on now at the office.  
Tank looked back into the tiny back seat.  
"You comfortable?"  
"No."  
He Smiled. "Lula is great. She met my mother, and didn't run. That's something."  
That had me curious. "Why would she run?"  
"My mother is a bit of a cat person."  
"She keeps cats, or, she thinks she's a cat?  
"A little of both." He let out a sigh and turned towards the window.  
The flight lasted a gut wrenching hour. I was pretty sure the engine had almost quit twice. I kept looking at the pilot to see if this bothered him. He seemed calm, so I tried to practice some deep breathing. I looked around for a parachute. From where I was sitting, I could see mountain ranges and desert. Not a place I want to try to land if something went wrong. I prefer the ocean; at least you have the flotation devices under your butt. I saw a parachute, and grabbed it. Pulling it to me. When the plane finally landed, I would have a firm grasp on which line to pull and when. Finally, I felt the training wheels hit ground and we landed. I did a few Hail Mary's for good measure, and finally let out a breath. This was a one-time shot, I thought. I was not about to get back into this plane for a ride home. I'd walk.  
We landed at a little airstrip in Alamogordo. I noticed the air first. It was not only cooler, but thinner and I figured we must be up in the mountains of New Mexico. For my honeymoon with Dickie Orr, we had gone to Aspen, Colorado to ski. After falling about 300 times, I had realized I needed to reconsider being an Olympic skier, and I retreated inside the lodge for lots of hot alcoholic beverages and sympathy. It was a nice honeymoon. One of the only times I had fun with that two timing jerk, Dickie. The air was similar here. The sun beat down on us, but it was more of a cool ninety instead of cooking hundred and twenty. The plane taxied over to an older Chevy Blazer. It was painted Camo-green and brown. Nothing like the black cars and trucks in Jersey.  
"This yours?" I said to Tank, as we climbed inside.  
"Nope, this is Ranger's truck."  
"Ranger's truck? It's not black. I thought everything with Ranger was black. Where's your truck?"  
I don't own a truck. I have a motorcycle. Put your seat-belt on, it's going to be a bumpy few miles."  
Holy cannoli, where the heck was he taking me?  
We drove through the city of Alamogordo. It was small but pretty. Lots of little businesses, shops and parks. Advertisements for RV camping and fishing tackle. Arrows pointing up roads with pictures of people skiing, others with people walking up mountains, and indicating trailheads. Most people we saw had four-wheel drive cars. Subaru wagons, old and new, Some trucks and SUV's, a few Jeeps, and some hunting trucks like we had. We drove by three gun shops, two fishing tackle shops and a Camping World. As we motored out-of-town, the trees grew closer together. We pulled off onto a dirt road that looked as if it ran straight up the side of a mountain. I adjusted my seat belt, tightening it till it was snug against me, pressing me into the seat. I held onto the sissy bar, the dash, the door, the roof. Nothing stopped me from being tossed around.  
"Jesus Christ, Tank. Where the hell are we going?" I screamed, as the truck tilted completely one way, than the other. Knocking my teeth together so hard, I may have chipped one of them. The truck persistently moved up the mountain in a slow crawl. The shocks clanging up and down with each rock it had to climb. I looked over at Tank. He was smiling ear to ear. I would have tried to talk to him more, but the jarring motion of the cab, had me at silence. I tried to look around to see just where we were going. The road was shrouded with trees and brush. The air was getting cooler, it was about 85 degrees now. The forest closed in on us and for the first time, I wondered if Tank had lost his mind. I remembered the movie where the girl was buried alive, and I checked on Tank again to see if he looked like he had lost his noodle. He looked pretty solid. Happy as a clam. But solid.  
We were still crawling up the mountain fifteen minutes later, and I was starting to get use to the climb. By no means was I comfortable, but I could see the top of the mountain now, and it wasn't that far off. The truck bucked down another dirt road, this one following around the top of the mountain. The road turned into a path that looked dangerously small, especially since my side of the truck bordered the cliff of the mountain. I moved closer to the inside of the cab, almost sitting on the console in the middle, as if believing that would keep me from falling out of the truck. I looked down; the tires were an inch away from the side of the cliff. An inch! Tank was still happy. So it was OK, right? If I panicked too much I would pee my pants. How would that look? I didn't want to ruin Ranger's seats. I looked again, seeing if anything would save us if the truck tipped the wrong direction. There was nothing but jagged rocks and some trees sticking out of the mountainside and a tiny little stream of water about 9000 feet below. Oh, crap. I held on tighter.  
"Is this the only road up here?" I had to scream for him to hear over the trucks hardworking engine.  
"No, there is a straight road in from the main highway."  
"Wha..? Why are we taking this one then?"  
Tank looked at me, "I thought you would like it. It's a very pretty road. The scenery is great."  
The road finally turned flat and straight. I started seeing the backs of cabins, Some with cars parked on parcels of flat land and rock. We passed a few more. Each one separated by huge pine trees and about half an acre of land. We kept driving, Trees became more prevalent. Tank pulled into a rock drive that went up another small incline to a larger cabin sitting alone. There was another four wheel drive truck. We parked next to it. It was red. A ford F250 with big knobby tires. Not new, but not exactly what I would call old. The back of the cabin faced the road. I had no idea what the front of any of the cabins looked like. I was curious to find out. Light trickled out of a small window facing us. A wooden staircase with a primitive wood railing led up to a back door entrance. The cabin looked homey and inviting. Not at all a place that I thought Ranger would be.  
I hesitated, and found myself thinking, my body would never be found way out here. No one knew where I was. I hadn't even told Vinnie where I was going. What if Tank freaked out, and he kidnapped me? And, well. That is just stupid. I took a deep breath and looked down at the shoes I was wearing. Chucks. They were OK, but not all that great for climbing mountains escaping from psychos.  
I looked up to see Tank watching me, almost laughing.  
"Earth to Stephanie, you OK? You look scared. You aren't thinking of kicking me again, are you?"  
"Me?" But my voice cracked and I gave myself away. I had been thinking about kicking him and running.  
"C'mon." he said. "Let's go inside."  
I checked the area, looking for an escape route. There were other cabins, clearly with people inside. Cars were parked; I could run to one of the neighboring cabins if things got weird. I followed Tank up the stairs. He opened the door to smells of good italian cooking. The intoxicating smell of Basil,Pesto,Onion,and Garlic hit me as we walked in. I instantly lost all fear for my life. Food has a way of making me feel safe. If anyone really wanted to kidnap me, they could probably lure me away with the promise of a cookie if I was hungry enough. I saw Hal, and felt better. The back door led into the kitchen, the heartbeat of any home. Steam rose from pots on the stove in front of him. He was cooking . Hal was a huge stegosaurus of a guy, but I loved him and trusted him more than all the others. I had never seen him angry; he was the linebacker on the team so to speak. He was all muscle, like tank. Just more. He saw us and smiled.  
"Stephanie… Nice tan, girl. You have been living the good life."  
The kitchen was slightly larger than my parents, but not huge, and not industrial like Rangeman. This was a vacation cabin. Probably used at the most, twice a year. The inside walls and cabinets were wood, the floors were tile, the counters yellow Formica. Vintage 1970's. The refrigerator and appliances were new. Everything else was outdated, but clean and well kept. There was a small table with four nondescript chairs. Plain and useful.  
I gave Hal a hug. It was like hugging a bear. He walked with us into the living room. It was situated directly behind the kitchen. The room was very open and spacious, with a high ceiling and a big picturesque window overlooking a valley of trees below. Two large couches and a small wooden coffee table were placed in the center of the room facing the flat screen T.V. It was on the wall above a brick and rock fireplace that had looked well used. Next to the large window, was a long wooden dining table with eight chairs. It was set for eight. A bright white linen table cloth draped over the wood table. Plates and bowls were black and in contrast to the rest of the room. I could tell that Tank felt right at home. He walked in and dropped his gun belt on the couch, as if he had been here a million times.  
Lester walked in. "Stephanie, nice to see you!" He said, coming over and giving me a hug. "I honestly thought we would never see you again. You up and left. Didn't even say goodbye." He put his hand over his heart. "I was crushed." He smooshed me against him and kissed the top of my head. "Things have been boring without you around. No one has knocked any of us over, blown up anything, or gotten shot since you left. It's been lonely."  
Lester was about the same size as Hal. Just a lot more ghetto. He was clearly a jersey boy with dark hair and smokey brown eyes. He looked like he lived in the gym and picked up pianos for the fun. Lester and Hal. Go figure. They missed me. I rarely ever heard them speak. I had no idea they were this interesting.  
Hal and Lester walked out the back door. "Don't you dare leave this time without a goodbye." Lester said, closing the door. Tank walked out behind them. "Ranger's upstairs in the office, Stephanie. He asked me to send you up."  
I knew he was around somewhere. It was like electricity in the air. Energy you couldn't put your finger on when he was around. He still made me very nervous. Especially in a cabin in the woods, alone. Upstairs seemed sort of scary right now, so instead I went to the kitchen. Hal had everything simmering. I checked the fridge to find a big salad. I was hungry, and it looked inviting, especially if there were some croutons, and some ranch dressing. I checked for any dessert, nothing. I checked the freezer too. Damn. No dessert. I checked the fridge again, just in case I missed it. Sandwich meats, tomatoes, carrots, assorted condiments, lots of vegetables, some water. Blah. Water. There were five kinds of beers. It looked to me like no one here could decide on a common house beer. Budweiser, Coors, Dos Equis, Newcastle, and Sam Adams.  
I grabbed a beer and a cherry tomato. I felt the air change in the room around me, and my heart started pounding hard in my chest. I knew Ranger was in the room. He came up behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. His hands were extremely warm. I put my arm on top of his. I had forgotten how much I liked being close to him. He pulled me in to him, brushed the hair away, kissing my neck. Goosebumps climbed up my arms and I think I shivered. It had been close to a year since anyone had touched me like that.  
He whispered into my ear, touching my skin with his lips. "I missed you, Babe." His hands moved under my thin cotton shirt, his fingers caressing my breast. My breath caught in my throat, and I think I moaned! I turned around to face him. His eyes were dark liquid oil. I kissed him. He cupped my face and the kiss became more demanding. He took control of it and pushed me up against the refrigerator. I grabbed for his shirt in an attempt to rip it off his body, and he pulled away from me, making me let go. He held my hands so I couldn't grab him again. His eyes had turned solid black, and he was definitely trying hard to hold back. I bit my lip in anticipation.  
"I want you to see something." He said.  
Well. Ya. I had a few things I wanted him to see also.  
He pushed me out of the kitchen. It seemed the wrong moment to give me a tour of the house. I was starving, I was in a state, and he had touched me in all the right spots. He led me upstairs, but to my dismay he wasn't trying to pull off my clothes on the way up. I had a feeling he was not going to take advantage of me. Damn!  
Upstairs was still as rustic as the rest of the cabin. The stairway led up to the center of a large room. The plate-glass window down stairs was a twin to the window here. To the right was a large room and a bathroom. To the left were two smaller rooms. One was an office. Ranger led me in. An older wooden desk sat close to the wall. Three computer screens were across it, with a keyboard. On the wall, was a flat screen TV that had four screens displayed. They looked like surveillance camera images, like the ones they had at Rangeman.  
He pointed to the T.V. "All four of the images are from different businesses that keep having problems with break-ins. Although they are being monitored in Jersey, I like to watch them from here". He pointed to the three computer screens on his desk. "Just like at Rangeman, I can scan, do searches and put things together from up here. I walked out of the office and looked out the plate-glass window at a valley below. There were some trails and small cabins in the distance. A beautiful view of pine trees and the rest of the forest below. I saw far below what looked like Tank, Hal and Lester jogging down one of the trails. I wondered if that was what they did for fun. I walked back into the office. I had finally gotten my blood pressure back down from Rangers attack in the kitchen. I understood the need for working, but it seemed kind of wrong to stop right in the middle of whatever that was. What was that anyway? I asked myself. I had thrown myself at him. Agh. I was such a slut. Worse, he stopped me. I stood next to him as he typed in some codes. What came up was a surprise.  
Across the screen in red was the title: "Bombshell Bounty Hunter." My mouth dropped open.  
Below it was an Okay picture of me, then thumbnails of videos.  
"Oh, Crap!" My voice seemed far away. I almost lost my footing. My heart was beating fast. I could feel my blood pressure rise again.  
"There are about 25 videos that were uploaded." Ranger said. "All from various cameras, and all done without your knowledge from the way they were filmed. Amateur movie makers who saw you, and took the opportunity to film you as you were doing your take downs." He pointed to one thumbnail closest to the bottom. "This one, this is the one that got you in trouble."  
I didn't know what he meant. But I took a deep breath and watched the video.  
It was Eddie's video that he shot as I was trying to get out of the devil car at the cop shop. It showed some very good footage of Paul Banton. It also shows him biting me, then doing my thing, and kicking the console and deploying the airbag. Then the film goes blank. Probably because Joe walked up. He would have killed Eddie for taping it. I thought about Joe for a second. It still hurt. At that moment when that film was made, Joe and I were still good. We were going to Pino's for Subs. We were a couple. I took a deep breath.  
Ranger pulled me from my thoughts of self-pity. "Paul Banton has a notorious past. His real name is Frederick "The Weasel" Conamelli. He was in a witness protection program until about two years ago, when he decided he was sick of hiding, and he made a life for himself. He had some inside information about the ponies at the track, and all the Mafia dealings around it. The boys didn't exactly want him talking, but they couldn't find him. Either could the FBI. It was a big problem. Both interested parties had lost track. When this video came out, He was whisked away by federal agents. They were happy they had picked him back up again; But Fred didn't want to be caged. He took off again; unfortunately for Frederick everyone knew where he was. They found him about eight months ago in a cargo trailer. Apparently, you are now linked to him.  
"What?!" I sat down. Paying slightly more attention than I had been before.  
Ranger must have seen the look of scared shitless on my face. We both knew the last thing you ever want to do is piss off the fricken Mob.  
"I don't know why or how." He said. "It started with the video. Paul Banter started the ball rolling. He was pissed about being found. So he put a hit out on you. He did it immediately. Apparently the Weasel has a bad temper. I am lost as to why the hit is still out there. Contracts are severed once someone dies. It's obvious as to why, no one gets paid. Apparently there is something we are missing. Maybe the Mafia wants you too."  
Ranger leaned back in his chair. I slumped in mine. The only thing we can figure is that they may think you have the information that Paul had." Ranger said. "Not a lot of people get an open season contract. You must be special."  
I needed cake. Not just a piece of cake, but an entire cake. A Big happy birthday balloon cake with flowers and smiling sunshine, cake.  
Ranger was silent. "Your thinking about cake, aren't you?" He pulled me onto his lap and held onto me. Babe. We have no cake here, but I know a few really good tricks that would make you feel just as good as cake does."  
Was that possible? Not a lot of things are better than cake. Although I really didn't want to know the answer, I went ahead and asked the next obvious question. "What is an open season contract?"  
Ranger took a deep breath."It means just that. "Open Season." The contract goes to whomever kills you first. It doesn't matter who does it, they just want you gone. It is the cheapest way to do a kill contract. A lot of amateurs will pick it up at a chance to not only get some cash, but bagging "The Bombshell Bounty Hunter" comes with some respect attached to it. It is a prize. It all has to do with the website. You are a celebrity."  
I got up and walked across the room to the window. Looking down at the ground below me, felt like I was falling. Ranger handed me a bunch of 8 x 10 pictures. All were grainy. He pointed to one of them.  
"The car that was in front of you that day in New Jersey. The one that flipped over. They were amateur hitters. They were a Ma and Pa outfit. They had the shooter in the backseat. Why they needed a third man is a mystery we will probably never solve. You had two sets of eyes on you that day. A sniper on the roof of the meat market and the little old woman and man whose car flipped over. I think the sniper saw the guy in front of you, and knew what they were about to do, so instead of letting them do the deed, he shot the guy."  
I had a Picture in front of me of a car flipped over; there was a body bag next to the car. The next picture was mug shots of the two in the car. I recognized them. They were the ones I asked about the shooting and asked if they were OK. I couldn't believe they were involved in trying to kill me. They seemed like such a nice couple. The next picture was a mug shot of Frederick the Weasel. It was taken about the same time as my apprehension picture was. The next was of a mug shot and a death picture of the shooter in the back seat of the car. His name was Leo Farnsworth. I had only seen him dead, but it looked like the same guy. The last one was of Tony "the Tool". At least that was the label on the picture. His real name was Anthony Barrella. The man Connie had talked about.  
"Farnsworth was shot through the forehead, as he discharged his weapon. Farnsworth's shot went wild and killed your window instead of you. The lone sniper, we think was Barrella. Better known as "The Tool", tried to slow you down and shot your wheel off your car, then shot the old man in the passenger seat of the car in the arm."  
My mouth was dry, I couldn't swallow. What was it that they thought I had? Was I really so terrible to Paul Banter that he put out a hit on me? That seemed a little over the top. It wasn't my fault about the camera on Fred or Paul or whatever his name was. He didn't tell me who he was, and he didn't give me anything ! I had nothing. Why would there be a hit to be out on me?  
I sat down in the chair next to him. Not sure what I should do. I pulled my legs up to my chest, and bit my lip.  
"It gets worse." he said. Turning his chair towards me. We found out who put up the website. You are not going to be very happy about it."  
I stared at him. The wheels of my brain were picking up speed. Who would benefit from me getting web time?  
"Vinnie". I said. Not believing it, but saying it anyway.  
"Actually," Ranger said. "Vinnie and Joyce set it up. She started it as a joke. Then, when It went viral she told Vinnie about it. They have been collecting a dollar a download ever since."  
My face started to burn. Joyce. Not only Joyce, but Vinnie! My rat faced, turd, dog scum cousin. Vinnie needed a way out of the hole he was in. He used the money he got from me to come out to Scottsdale, and see Joyce and to start a new business. I followed along. Feeling sad and forlorn and desperate. He probably thought he could do a Scottsdale edition. I had wondered how he had gotten the money together to do bigger bonds.  
I could feel my blood boil. I had been NICE to him.  
"The FBI found out a few days ago that the original footage might be in the Scottsdale office. They have been under a lot of pressure lately to get it, that's what I'm hearing at least. They would look pretty bad if it leaked out that the witness protection program had some flaws."  
This was a lot for me to deal with. I needed a drink, I needed cake, and I needed Vinnie's head on a stick. I was going to wring his scrawny little neck. This was his fault. Not mine. Joyce and Vinnie were dead meat.  
Ranger was silent as he watched me pace the floor. "Where are you at right now, Babe?" Ranger said  
I was staring out the window, plotting revenge. Thinking about how Vinnie played me. How did I not see this? I have internet. How could I have missed it? It was so obvious. What about this Tool guy? Was he out in Jersey to kill me? I needed to talk to Connie. Maybe she could get me out of this contract thing. I was angry, confused and hurt. I felt like I had been gullible. That was the worst. I hugged myself. I felt sick. All this was too much. I just felt so alone. This was it. I was going to fall off this cliff that was my life. I didn't have whatever it was they thought I had. People were looking for me; just to randomly kill me because they could. They didn't even know me. It wasn't personal, it was for money, and kicks. I stared out the window at the setting sun. I was tired and I was sad. Because of Joyce, Vincent, and Eddie my life with Joe was over. It may have ended anyway, but it would have been on our own terms, not because of their sick twisted little joke website.  
Ranger came up behind me and looked out the window. "Stephanie, just so you know. I found out about this yesterday. I had no idea."  
I looked at him reflected in the glass of the window; He was standing with his arms folded in front of him. He was watching me, as I was watching him. He looked thinner than he had been a year ago, like maybe he had just come back from another mission and he had not gotten back to himself yet.  
"How long have you been back?"  
He glanced at me, looking a little surprised. "How did you know?"  
I shrugged. It was just a feeling.  
"I got back from the second half about a week ago. I was gone for four months. It was grueling and it felt wrong. I am not sure if I will take another assignment when it comes back up."  
"Why do you go at all?"  
He just kept staring out the window."Because I am good at it."  
I watched Tank and the others as they headed up to the cabin. Ranger took a small remote and pressed a button and the shades on the window went down. His eyes cut to mine as the window shut off the glow of the sunset.  
"Stephanie, just so you know. This is the Bat Cave."


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter 8  
That little sentence, made everything else lose perspective in my brain. Connie, Lula and I joked about the bat cave. Hinted that Ranger must have a place he actually called home. Once, he went as far as saying, "Once you go into the bat cave, there's no turning back. It's forever. " Not that I took everything he said literally, Ranger has a dark sense of humor.  
The seventh floor apartment at RangeMan was impersonal. There was nothing tangible that said who he was. I had spent time there on more than one occasion when he was kind enough to let me hide from some pretty scary people. It was cold and businesslike. Not that it wasn't nice. I loved Ranger's apartment. It was always clean, smelled great and he had Ella. I would call her a housekeeper, but she was more than that. She also made him food and took care of the other people he employed. Her husband took care of the building, she took care of Ranger. She made his life easy in Jersey. He always had clean clothes, his bed was always made, and she put Bvlgari green shower gel in his shower. If I could afford that kind of luxury, I would be a happy person. I have asked her about him, I don't think she knows anymore than I do, and she washes his clothes. He doesn't give an inch about his personal life. And here I am, probably standing right in the middle of it.  
Ranger gave me a quick glance, and actually smiled. "I think you need to make an appearance downstairs. I run a tight ship when were working, but up here, it's different."  
I had no idea what the rest of this night would bring. I only knew that this was a lot more than I had ever expected to happen when I woke up this morning. I followed Mr. Carlos Manoso, AKA Ranger, AKA Who the Hell is this? downstairs.  
When Ranger walks into a room at RangeMan, people shut up. There is silence, and serious "man" things going on. But when he came downstairs here, no one even noticed him. He blended in like a chameleon. I walked in behind him, and into a bunch of guys, big guys. Doing kitchen duty. Cleaning up & setting food out. Basketball was on the flat screen. It was a strange emotional moment for me. So much had changed in the last twelve months, And now this. I was in the inner circle of Rangers life. Ranger. Not Joe. Ranger. If I could go back a year, and tell myself this is what my life would be like in twelve months, I think I would have checked myself into a looney bin. Ranger went into the kitchen and poured us both a glass of wine, I took the bottle with us, I thought I might need it. I followed him outside to a balcony that overlooked the entire canyon below.  
"So," I began. Not exactly sure where to start. "When did you decide to become a mountain man? I leave for less than a year, and now you live in New Mexico?" I took another drink of my wine, and found the glass was already empty, so I poured another.  
"My father bought this cabin after he finished his tour in the Army." Ranger leaned against the railing. " It was his place to get away. My mother gave it to me when I enlisted in the service. Over the years I bought the land surrounding it. Sometimes I come up here to get away, to take a deep breath. To get back to normal. Especially if I come back from a job that is bad. I come here to chill before going home. When I found out about the website, and what was happening we were already here. Some fucked up shit went down, and you can't just throw yourself back into real life, you have to ease back in, or it will ruin you. We were close to Arizona, so I had Tank go get you."  
"So why haven't you ever mentioned this place before?"  
He took a drink of wine. "Because, it was none of your business."  
"And now it is?"  
His eyes glanced momentarily at me, and then over at the canyon below. "Maybe."  
He turned towards me, watching me as he spoke. His eyes reflected the moon behind me, giving them an eerie glow. "This is my personal space, Stephanie. Maybe the only place I really have that is close to a home. This is where I am. I share this place only with the people I care for and trust the most."  
"So now you trust me, and you care about me?" I knew he was letting me in, and I was teetering on buzzed. I put the glass of wine down, mostly because it was empty again. Also because I was flirting with someone I put in the "fun but dangerous" category. Damn.  
He laughed. "Just hear me out. You wanted to know who I was. Well, this is as close to reality as you are going to get. There's no room service here. Just usually me, myself, and I. At the office in Jersey, I don't have time for all that domestic shit. Up here, it's very different. I bring close friends up here. That would include Tank, Hal, Lester and Ramon. They are the people who have my back, and not because I pay them. They have been my friends since I joined the Army. Every year, for about a month, we come up here to shake demons out of our heads. We've seen too much, and this is where we can get a grip on what is important. It's more efficient than putting our head-trips on another person's conscience."  
I knew that was a rip on Joe, and I knew that they both had demons; I guess they deal with it a lot differently.  
Ranger leaned farther over the railing and pointed down the canyon. "Down below there are three cabins. Tank has his own, Hal and Lester have theirs. When Ramon comes up with us, he has to bunk at the main house, or with the boys below. This time, he is staying down with Tank. I don't intrude on them. They don't intrude on me. They come up here when they need to, just like I do."  
I watched him as he spoke. Ranger is not someone who talks. I enjoyed hearing him; it was nice to get to know this man. He was so much more than he let on. My eyes caught something moving in the brush, a coyote ran below us, searching for food or just checking on his perimeters. I watched as it ran through the route Tank had been on earlier. Sniffing the ground, checking out rabbit holes, stopping and standing very still as he listened to the noises of the night. The wind moved up the canyon and the coyote moved away, parting the brush to go into the trees. It was peaceful here. I could see how this place was good for his soul. Ranger stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, He kissed the back of my neck, nuzzling gently into my hair.  
"Let's go eat. Everything is going to get cold if we don't get in there, and grab it quick".  
Perfect. A man after my own heart. That's more like it.  
Sitting down at a dinner table with Rangers men is a real experience. They really wanted me to feel at home. I don't think that they are used to setting the table and getting things together like this. It was more of an "eat with your fingers and wipe your mouth with your shirt" kind of place. It wasn't my mother's table, but I thought it was wonderful. I miss my family and my Sunday dinners with my mom and dad more than I knew I did. There was something to be said about sitting down together and eating a meal that made you really feel like a family. This was Ranger's family, and he included me. After all that had happened, it was just what I needed to get me back to myself. Maybe that is a little of what he meant about being here. Who knows? I just knew that for now, I felt at home for the first time since I left Trenton.  
As we ate I asked about the picture Kyle had on his wall. "Kyle was our team leader." Tank said. "Ranger was second in command. All of us worked together so well, that we kept the team together after our tours were finished. Kyle went home. He had his own life he wanted to get back to. We had been taught a certain set of skills that weren't not exactly in high demand. It was a joint decision to stay together and work. Now we have Rangeman."  
I sat there silently. Letting them talk, telling stories about different things that had happened. I didn't know any of these guys even spoke, and here they were forming complete sentences. I was flabbergasted. I poured more wine, but the bottle was empty, and I was getting the spins. I retreated to the couch. I was feeling slightly dizzy. I sat on the couch between Hal and Lester. Ranger was at the table, going over paperwork. I thought this night really couldn't get any better. I leaned over to Hal, and put my head on his shoulder "You guys are so great" and I fell off the couch. I just could not see why anyone needed more than 2 glasses of wine. Ranger walked over and picked me up.  
"Are you okay?"  
Well of course I was ok! Sheesh! "Can't someone accidentally fall off the couch?"  
I think after that, I may have lasted another twenty minutes before I passed out on Tanks shoulder. I wonder If I drooled a little. That would have been so embarrassing!  
I woke up completely disoriented. Where the hell was I now? I tried to focus on my surroundings. I was in a large room with white walls and dark floors. I was in a bed that was very big and very .wow.. I could get use to this.. Where was I? I was in a room, but not what appeared to be a guest room. This room had personal stuff. There were pictures on a dresser and a nightstand with more. My head was pounding. What happened last night? I focused on a large painting was on the opposite wall. It was an Asian painting of a forest. It instilled a sense of calm. This forest was a safe place. Suddenly I realized there was someone sleeping next to me, an arm was wrapped around me protectively. Ranger. I was in his bed. His real bed. Not the one at RangeMan. Omigod. This was the real thing. I was kind of scared. Ranger was a tough cookie.  
Stephanie, what the hell are you getting yourself into? I said to myself. I had moved from completely staying away from men, to jumping into the lion's den. Oh crap. Ranger was scary sexually, scary mentally, and scary, as in if I let him in any farther than I have already;I will fall head over heels for him. I was terrified he would break my heart.  
I felt him tighten his grip. Crap, he was awake. He pulled me closer to him. His body melded into mine. Okay, this was nice. He was warm next to me, and he felt good. He kissed my neck and his hand casually slid under my shirt. My heart was pounding in my chest. My mind was half in panic, and half in oh, that feels really good. My body wasn't listening to the panic part, and responded to his touch by pressing in closer to him. He didn't need any other invitation. He pulled me on top of him, and slid off my shirt, rubbing my nipples with his fingers. It felt so good, I forgot to say no. I looked into his eyes. They were deep pools of liquid brown. He gently brought his lips to mine, kissing me so softly that I wondered why I would have ever wanted to say no to begin with? His hands expertly pulling at my clothes. The kiss deepened, and he pulled me down on the bed and slid deep into me. His eyes were focused. Holding mine as we moved together, my hips rolling with his, slowly at first then gaining speed until his body shuttered and released inside me, as he whispered my name and kissed me passionately then he moved his mouth down my body, kissing my shoulder, then the soft skin around my nipple. His tongue slid down my stomach finding my, OMIGOD ! Yes! Making me a very happy girl.  
I had dreams when I was young, when fantasy was still an option. I never had anything this real. How could I have ever been afraid of this man?  
It was 10am.  
Ranger was still sleeping next to me. I am caught in plenty of situations that have me in the same bed with Ranger, but I have never been with him when he actually sleeps in. I really needed fries and a Coke. It was my hangover quick fix. Without them, the day could be ruined. I had no idea how far away fries and a Coke would be from this place, but I had a feeling it was really far. I needed to call Lula and have her pick me up. Problem was, She was about eight thousand miles away. I let out a groan. But before I could roll out of Rangers nice soft comfy bed, he pulled me back down.  
"Where do you think you're going?" He said, rolling in top of me. Holding me down. "There are no fast food places out here, and I know you are not going out for a run."  
I really did need fries and that Coke, but Ranger's bed was warm, Ranger was warm, and I was getting warmer by the minute. It did not take him long to have me thinking that fries and a Coke could wait.  
Noon was fast approaching. We took a shower, still not ready to let go of what we had just shared. I was still wondering when I would wake up from this strange, erotic dream that I walked into. The Batcave? Could this really be happening? I wrapped a towel around myself and looked in the bathroom mirror. My reality hadn't changed. This wasn't a dream. I needed to face my life.  
"I think that I need to figure out what to do about the contract out on me."I said. "Maybe try to defuse the situation before I become road kill."  
Ranger was already getting dressed. He was going casual. Jeans, a black t-shirt, commando. Nice.  
"Jersey sent out an email to us last night." He said. "You are not going to like it, either. I have a meeting set up for Rangeman, so we can get our ducks in a row. I scheduled a conference with the Trenton P.D. Homicide table later, and their Mafia task force. Things should move pretty quickly after that."  
I started pulling on my clothes. Thinking of how much Ranger had done for me over the last few years. I never said thank you for him helping with all of this. I left Jersey so I could figure out what I wanted, and try to change things, and I ended up still needing help.  
"I feel strange about you getting involved in my problems, but I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't. I don't know what I can do to thank you for it."  
"I'll have to think about the thanking part. I'm sure you could think of something." Ranger smiled as he laced up his boots. He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. "I already know what you would have done if i wasn't around, and it probably wouldn't have been the wrong approach, but a more dangerous one. You would have gone directly to the source; Connie. And between Lula and yourself, you would have set up a meeting with some cousin of hers to discuss what they wanted, so you could stay alive."  
That sounded like a pretty good plan to me. I knew Connie would have some way to get a meeting set up. Ranger was good. I was still working on that one in my brain. I wonder if I talk in my sleep. If I did, what the hell else do I say?  
"Not a bad plan." Ranger said. "But mine is a little safer."  
He reached up and swept a curl off my face and tucked it behind my ear affectionately. "You don't have to thank me for helping you, I love you. Don't think I'm not doing this for my own personal gain. I'm just not sure how to feel about it, so I'm dropping it."  
Oh, OK. Hello. What? My brain was changing course; brakes were squealing, engines coming to a halt, as George Costanza would say "Worlds are colliding,Jerry." I bit my lip hard. His personal gain? What did that mean, exactly? I knew he loved me, but it always was in a sweet noncommittal way. Ranger was the lone wolf. He expressed that to me on many occasions just how lone he was and that in no way could he ever be more. So what kind of a statement was that? I needed to know, because what if something terrible happened? What if one of us fell off a cliff or something? I would never know. It would forever be the unanswered question.  
"No, that's not OK." I said. "You can't lay out a sentence like that on me, and expect me to just drop it. I'm not you; I can't just walk away from a statement like that."  
He looked at me for a long moment, then put on his SEALS cap. "It means, I missed you more than I thought I would. It's a problem. I am not sure what to do about it."  
Don't fall for it, Stephanie Plum. My mind raced to the rescue. Just be cool. He is probably just elated from morning sex. Be calm.  
He was still talking "After the meeting, we will know more."  
I'd hoped I hadn't missed anything while my brain jumped out of my skull for a moment to regroup.  
"Stephanie, let me lead when they start asking questions." He said. "I need to be in control of this bullshit before it blows up in your face. We need to have cooperation from Trenton to get anything accomplished. I need you to be on my side."  
Usually, that kind of comment would start an argument, but I thought for this, I would be happy to let someone take over. This was way over my head.  
He kissed me and let me go. "Let's get this stupid shit over with."  
There were apples and oranges in a bowl on the table. I was starving. I went in the kitchen and searched the refrigerator of something edible. I opted for a bagel with cream cheese and coffee. How was I supposed to wake up without sugar? I dumped two more spoonfuls of sugar in my coffee and knocked down five aspirin in an attempt to stop my head from exploding. I picked up the bagel and nibbled on it trying to pretend it was something with sprinkles on it. Tank and the rest of the crew all ambled in after a few minutes. All looked fresh from being up for hours doing sit ups or whatever it was they did for fun.  
We all took our seats at the table. Tank was across from me, Hal and Ramon on each side of me, Lester next to Ranger who sat at the head of the table.  
"This is what we know." Ranger began. "Which is still not very much. Paul Banter, aka "Frederick the Weasel" put out a hit on you for something you did to piss him off. The Mafia now wants you also. The first one is pretty bad. But the Mob is worse. Trenton P.D. and Scottsdale P.D need you to give your statements about the shootings. The FBI is also on the list of people who want to have a conference. From what I am getting from the street is that it is all about a missing hard drive. The FBI wants it and the Mob wants it. Apparently the reason Fred wanted you dead was because he said you stole it."  
"I would never have taken anything from that jerk. He bit me. You know that? Why would I take anything from him?"  
Actually, I believe most of North America knew he bit me if the numbers were correct on Joyce's stupid website.  
"Well," Ranger said. "Fred must have convinced the Mob that you had it, even though it didn't save his life. He was found dead in Long Island a month ago."  
I put my head down on the table, and tried to get a grip.  
"It was never confirmed that Tony "The Tool" Potrovski was the sniper. We do know he was in Trenton, and there's no proof he ever left. This could be a real problem if you go back."  
"If there was a hit out on me, why didn't they just come out to Scottsdale and shoot me? I wasn't exactly hiding."  
"That's something that I would like to know." Ranger said. "Maybe, "The Weasel's" contract was only a local thing. The Mafia wasn't looking for you until recently. As for the FBI, I am still thinking that shooting at the office was a way to search the place without interruptions. I don't think the intention was to hit you, just scare you. Probably looking for the drive or the tape, who knows? I think they were unofficially looking, or they would have had a search warrant. Probably this is an embarrassment to the department."  
Well, they did a good job, I was definitely scared. I was getting nervous, my leg started shaking. I hoped no one noticed.  
"So what does this mean?" I said. Was I supposed to be afraid of people taking pot-shots at me forever? I couldn't go back home? Would I ever feel safe anywhere? I felt safe in Scottsdale, until yesterday. I wanted that back. I had successfully reinvented myself out there. I could feel all the color was draining out of my face. My brain was spinning in a million different directions. Up until now, I had things like food and great sex to take my mind off all this. Now, reality was staring me in the face. This was a serious problem, and not to want to dwell on it too much, but what if I did start really falling for Ranger? Geez.  
"I am not sure what it means yet." Ranger said, drawing me back in. "It's better if we get the facts from Trenton, before we can actively discuss what we need to do next. Joe Morelli will be on video conference with us in about ten minutes. He chose to help us figure things out. Everyone wants you to come out of this alive."  
Joe? I think I was going to be sick. Not only was I afraid, but now I had to see Joe Morelli and deal with those feelings again, too. I tried to breathe. Inhale, exhale. I was suddenly tired. I really just wanted to go back up stairs and wake up from this dream that had become a really bad nightmare.  
I decided to let Ranger take this one. I think this was way too big for me to handle on my own. I needed his protection, unless I wanted to live on the Moon. Jesus Christ, all I did was pick up a skip. If it wasn't for Eddie, things would be different. I stopped in mid thought. No, this was my fault. I was not being professional. I had a car that was all fucked up. This was my fault. Period.  
The reason people were afraid for me was because I wasn't taking my job seriously. I wasn't that good at it. I kept thinking it was temporary. When we moved to Scottsdale, I did learn my job, and I got a car that was dependable and not all screwed up. I was professional, (except on my days off.) Plus, I never got on video! This was definitely my fault.  
I had blanked out, talking to myself. Ranger was still talking. "For now, If you leave the valley wear your vests." Ranger looked my direction. "No one here wants to lose you, especially me."  
Especially me? My jaw dropped. He said that in front of everyone. I can't think about that right now! He's messing with me, i know it. And If I am really on a Mafia hit list, what were the odds I would live? Probably slim to none. I needed someone solid. I didn't know if I could get a pretend "It is going to be OK" from Ranger right now. I hadn't asked the most obvious question of all.  
"You can call off a hit, and talk to the mafia guys, tell them I don't have what they want, right?" Tank was a rock. I directed the question at him. But Ranger answered.  
"I don't know, Stephanie. That is what we are hoping."  
I looked at Ranger, hoping for strength to ooze out of him and into me. He stared right back at me. He still had confidence that I never would have. He would protect me.  
"What if we can't call off the hit? "  
"I'm not working with doubt, Babe."  
He didn't answer my question! He never answered my questions.  
The conference call with Joe Morelli was in 5 minutes. It would be the first time I would see his face since the night he said goodbye. I paced the room, watching the clock. I didn't know how I felt about him anymore. Thinking about it made me feel strange and light headed. I started breathing hard. I did a few stretches, walked back and forth from the window to the table. I wasn't hungry. I really didn't want to do this. I was back into a situation not any different from the one I got into when I left. Nothing had changed. I had prolonged it by running. I wanted to be more grown up, I wanted to be more productive. But not at this very moment. Not now. Because at this moment, I had to get out of the room before I freaked out. I was sweating; I was going to have an anxiety attack. I sure as hell wasn't going to do it in front of all these people.  
"I need to go to the bathroom." I said, and I got up, and instead went outside and ran.  
There have been times when I have taken off before, I've used my bedroom window at my parents house, or my bathroom window at the apartment. Sometimes it is just necessary to take a break, go find someone or some place that won't make the world look so bleak. The people I ran too were Mary Lou, Lula, and even my friend Mooner. Morelli and Ranger have been in my web of safe places from time to time. None of those places were available to me. I had worked really hard to get my head out of my ass. I had worked on my skills. I was a decent bounty hunter. I had a Jeep that hadn't been destroyed, I had held on to my handcuffs, for God's sake.  
I climbed up the mountain behind the cabin. Going down looked like it might end badly. Up was better. I wanted to just get away from all the bad that kept creeping into my life. To be stronger, to be able to face Morelli, maybe even be Bionic. At the very least I wanted to be able to face the one person I was trying to prove myself to. I wanted to say to Morelli, "see? I can take care of myself. I am not a walking disaster, you jerk."  
Shit. It wouldn't happen today. Nothing had changed at all. Now I had to have a team of people keeping me safe. I wanted to scream. I was dealing with the same old problems that always interrupted the safe places inside my heart.  
Ok. So.. Climbing up a mountain may seem fun to most people, but It was summertime. Summer in New Mexico was nothing short of well, hot. The ground was so blistering it burned my fingers as I grabbed hold of each and every rock. I didn't have the right shoes for this type of climbing; I don't think I owned shoes for this. But I did it anyway. By the time I stopped, I was on a small plateau high above the valley. The cabin looked small. I felt better way up here. I didn't want to have to talk to Joe. I was not ready to face it right now. Thirty minutes past as I sat pretending that my life was normal. My phone rang, and brought it all back.  
"What?" I knew I sounded rude, but I was not ready to put my big girl pants on yet today. Give me a break already. It was Ranger, and he was saying something to me, but he kept going from English to Spanish to maybe German for all I knew. He sounded kind of frustrated, so I faked some static and hung up.  
Two hours later, I was feeling a little more confident, and I had to find a bathroom. I was hot, and I think I was getting a pretty good sunburn. I stood up and took a look around, realizing that I could not get down from this place I had decided to run to. I took a deep breath, and called Ranger. He picked up, but he was silent.  
"I'm stuck." I said. "I can't get down. I need some help."  
"Where are you?" he said. I could here slight irritation in his tone. "You left your bag and your tracker here. We have been looking for you."  
I told him that I was up the mountain behind the house.  
"Hal won the bet then". He hung up.  
Tank and Lester got me down without too much trouble. I kicked Tank in the face once, but it was just a little kick and it wasn't my fault. We walked back to the house; I thanked them for helping me.  
"Joe wasn't the one we talked to; he opted out of the conference call." Lester said. "He let one of the other guys fill in. Just so you know."  
I was still glad not to have been there. I was able to ward off an embarrassing anxiety attack; I didn't want to let them see me lose it. I went into the cabin, going directly upstairs as quickly as I could. I didn't want the evil eye from Ranger just yet. I really had to pee, and I wanted a shower. I was hot, and had desert sand down my pants. I think I had decent sunburn to go with it. The shower felt great. I checked the mirror. I had slight sunburn, but it just made my freckles come out a little on my nose that I didn't know existed. I thought it gave me a healthy red glow. At least I told myself that it was a healthy red glow, and the heat that was coming from it was just my imagination. I am determined to be OK with my life from this point on. I took a deep breath, wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out of the bathroom.  
Ranger was sitting on the bed, watching me like I was an animal he was studying. I pretended that he was not there, and I started looking for my clothes. I couldn't remember if I left my bag in here, downstairs, or in the car. I was flustered that he was in the room. I had come out of the shower confident, but not confidant enough to put my underpants on in front of Ranger.  
"Your bag is still in the car, Babe."  
I started for the stairs. I didn't care if I was in just a towel, I wanted my clothes. Ranger grabbed my towel and pulled me back. He picked me up, and tossed me on the bed.  
"You can't just go walking around without any clothes on around here." Fire flickered through his eyes.  
"My men are nice to you, but I don't want to get them all riled up. It could turn into a pissing contest, and I don't need the drama right now."  
He went down to the Jeep before I could tell him where he could stick it. Ranger came back up with my bag. He put it on the bed, and sat down in a chair. Watching me, like he was before. As if there was no break in the moment. Like I had walked out of the bathroom to him. I couldn't believe I needed to tell him that I wanted to dress alone. I was starting to get mad.  
"Are you going to leave, so I can get dressed?"  
"No."  
I couldn't believe he said that! So I did what any rational girl would do. I took my towel off and sauntered over to the window, turned on the lights so everyone could see me, and I proceeded to get dressed. I knew that his whole crew was outside. With the light on, they could see everything that went on in the upstairs rooms. I think I surprised him, because his eyes flicked from chocolate-brown to black. He walked over to the window, took the remote and the shades went down over the window.  
He stared at me with eyes that were little black orbs of fury. I was a little afraid. I had never really seen Ranger get angry, and I didn't want to see it now. But I couldn't help myself. He was being a jerk by staying in the room while I got dressed; he was doing it on purpose, because I wouldn't follow directions.  
He spoke softly and in command of himself, like he was holding back the growling cat with one hand. "I thought we had an understanding about how you and I need to act when my men are present. When we are alone, that may waver in your favor. When I am with RangeMan employees, I need some cooperation from you."  
He got up from the chair and came toward me. I backed up a little. It was instinct, and I was suddenly feeling slightly vulnerable, and very naked.  
"You gave all my men a show out there. I have no idea what the effect will be, but you called my bluff, and I am kind of impressed."  
This wasn't what I had expected from him. It had probably taken a lot of Zen Buddha stuff to get him prepared to make that speech. He came closer to me. His eyes were soft now and sensuous. "If you weren't ready to do the interview today, all you needed to do was tell me. I'll listen to you. I still need to talk to you about the conversation with Trenton P.D." He touched me, looking down at my body and then back up into my eyes. "But it can wait."  
He was standing very close to me. I looked up at him as his hands traveled down my arms, picking them up and placing them around his neck. He pulled me up to him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He held me there, kissing me as he pushed me up against the wall. I held on tight, as a wave of heat traveled through me. I wanted this to happen, I had fantasies about this happening with him ever since I left Trenton. Holy crap, it was happening for real. My heart was pounding fast. He unbuckled his pants with some urgency, letting them fall. I gasped, as suddenly he was inside me, and I gripped my legs tight around his hips, holding him to me. Ranger watched me, his eyes danced with excitement and he smiled, moving deeper, pushing me harder up against the wall. Desire flowed through me, I couldn't control it. I needed to pull him closer, and I kissed him hard, wanting him as much,if not more than he wanted me. His breath quickened with every stroke. Ranger put his arm behind my back and carried me onto the bed, still locked together. His breath hot and fast against my cheek. He grabbed for me, kissing me roughly as he came. Relaxing into me, and catching his breath. His lips caressed my skin as his heart rate slowed to an even pulse. Ranger wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. We watched the sun fall beneath the horizon. "Stephanie, he said. "I can't help myself, I'm in love with you." I kissed him, and snuggled into his arms.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter 9  
The bustling sounds of evening activities arose from downstairs. Soon, the aroma of garlic,onions,and fresh baked bread floated through the bedroom, washing over me.  
"This place is so different from Rangeman."  
"It's completely different. That's the point." Ranger kissed my shoulder. His hand slowly caressing my breast. We were lying together in the dark, the full moon bright enough for us to see. Warm air drifted through from the open window.  
I thought about Ranger's family, and the story about his mother giving him this cabin. "What happened to your Dad? You never mentioned him before."  
"You ask a lot of questions, Stephanie Plum." His voice was low and sad.  
"I'm a curious person, sue me."  
Ranger sat up next to me, he wrapped me in his arms. "My father was in the military, like I was. He got shot in the head by friendly fire during training exercises."  
"Wow, I am so sorry. I had no idea."  
"There are a lot of things you don't know about me." He was right, I knew nothing about him. Not really. I knew that he had a daughter, that he had been married before,I knew that he was smokin hot, and.. I knew that I was falling for him. Crap.  
"So, What happened?" I said, trying not to think about that last part.  
"He lived, but the bullet lodged in his brain. Eventually he started acting different. He was disoriented, hallucinating. Getting bad headaches, and he had fits of rage that he could not control. He was terrified to be around us. Sometimes he wouldn't even know who we were. The doctors said the bullet was moving, and surgery was not an option. It was in a part of the brain that they could not get to without causing him severe brain damage. He came up here as a last resort so he wouldn't harm anyone."  
I couldn't imagine what that would have done to his family. I thought about my dad, and what kind of pressure that would have put on him, how that would have changed everything in our life.  
"Did you still see him?"  
"We would visit. Sometimes he would come see us. Then one day we got a call that the cabin had been abandoned. They had search and rescue scour the area . Two weeks, not a trace. They didn't find him. He probably just wandered off."  
"They never found him?" I said curiously.  
Ranger shook his head,"No" and climbed out of bed. He checked his watch and started getting dressed.  
If he wandered off, how far could he have gotten? Then I thought of how I took off. I could have gotten lost. I suppose it could have looked a lot different back then, but it seemed to me that it would have been hard to miss someone out here unless you didn't want to be found. There were mountains, I suppose crevices but a good rescue team should have spotted something.  
"How old were you?" I asked, as I watched him.  
"Eight." He said quickly.  
I could tell he wanted to change the subject. I knew it must be hard to talk about, especially since Ranger doesn't talk about personal shit. He got up and pulled his clothes on, tossing my bag on the bed effortlessly.  
"When ever your ready, come downstairs. I have some things that need to be taken care of." He looked down at me, and a smile broke through his usual serious demeanor. He stopped tucking in his shirt and instead pulled me back down on the bed. His weight fully on top of me, his arms holding himself up so that he could look into my eyes. He ran his fingers down my body watching them as they dipped with the natural curves. I got goosebumps and I was having a hard time keeping my cool. His lips touched mine and I instantly forgot the sad story he was telling or that he had things to do. I thought what ever business he had, It could wait. I mean, he was on some sort of vacation, right? I pulled him in closer, clutching the front of his shirt and bringing my hand to his back sliding it under the waistband of his cargo pants. I felt him stir and push his hips into mine. He pulled away from the kiss, his elbows resting at my sides. The light from the moon reflected in the dark pools of his eyes. They locked on mine. He cracked a tiny smile,took a deep breath and rolled out of the bed.  
It took me a few minutes to collect myself after that little episode, and I wondered why I shouldn't just fall for him. Maybe, Stephanie, because the man himself has warned you not to fall for him. He told you it could never happen and that I would be left with a broken heart. I fought with myself over this for a few minutes and decided that I was a big girl and I could handle what ever happened just fine. I wasn't falling for him anyway, I told myself.  
I found my bag and started picking through the small amount of clothing that I had taken with me. My things were still at the apartment in Scottsdale. Everything was there. I wanted to go back and get my stuff. The thought of kicking Vinnie's ass got me anxious. I looked around the room we were in. The moon was bright enough that I could see pictures on the walls and in frames on the dresser. I hit the remote to cover the window and I turned on the lamp next to me, draped a sheet around me so I could see just what pictures Ranger would have in his real batcave room. Some were documents of different events from Rangers tours of service framed and placed neatly and orderly on the wall in front of me. There were more personal ones also. 8 x 10 pictures showing young men in uniforms. Some standing around large guns, or posing with huge machines, helicopters, and military tanks. Ranger was in some of the pictures. In others, I imagine he was the photographer. In each picture he aged, not just in years, but in how he handled himself. All the men in the images changed, but I spotted some that remained with him through almost all. Men like Tank were in two or three, Hal was in a few and so was Ramon and Lester. The older pics showed young men goofing off and happy, but the pictures that were from years later showed a much more serious band of brothers. I knew that they had seen more than they needed to see over the years, and I felt instantly sad for them. The pictures documented a loss of innocence.  
I pulled on jeans and the stretchy tank top as I studied more of the pictures as I walked around the room. Family photos, when Ranger was more Ricardo Carlos Manoso and not yet labeled "Ranger." One was of a boy, being hugged by a man and a woman. She was very beautiful; the man very dark and handsome. The man had his arms around the boy protectively and the woman was holding him close. They were all smiling. The boy was small and thin; his hair looked like it needed cutting. His face just like his fathers. These were Ranger's parents, and they had been very happy that day.  
More pictures were on the dresser. A boy standing next to a girl that might have called Ranger "Ricky" or "Carlos" or even "Carl". She was about 2 or 3, he was about 6. She had a baby in her arms. They were standing next to a little bakery that I recognized as the one I went into to ask about Ranger not long ago. It had not changed much. Next to one of the windows was a Christmas picture framed in black. Ranger's mother was smiling and standing next to him. He was in Army fatigues; maybe he had come home on leave. The whole family sitting around a Christmas tree full of presents. He truly did have a huge family. There were little kids in stop motion, running as the picture was taken. In Rangers arms was a little baby and next to him standing and looking at the camera and smiling, was a girl no older than 18. I am guessing this was Julie and her mother right after she was born. Ranger looked proud, and he looked scared all at the same time. I must have looked at the picture for a long time. I felt a hand touch my waist and I saw Ranger take a look at the picture.  
"I knew you would be up here snooping around." He pointed to each person, telling me who they were. He told me his family, for the most part still lived in the same area that he had grown up. It made me miss my family. I knew then that I wanted to get back to them.  
We walked down stairs together. Both Hal and Lester had a hard time looking me in the eye. Hal got flustered and walked back outside. Lester went into the kitchen looking for something in the fridge. I had a feeling they had seen me in my birthday suit. I blushed. Tank was a different story. He walked right up to me and smiled. "Nice to see you found your clothes."  
I took a gigantic breath and went outside for some air. Hal was working the grill.  
"Does everyone always eat big meals up here?" I asked. He had different stations on a large charcoal grill. Fish was on the top, Steak and chicken on the bottom and corn on the sides.  
"Only occasionally." He said. "Usually there is only one or two of us up here at the same time. About once a year we break out this bad boy and fire it up. You came the right month." He smiled.  
"Sorry about earlier. I was being an ass."  
"When you kicked me? Or when I saw you butt ass naked upstairs through the window?"  
I flushed. "I guess both." Instantly I wanted to go back inside.  
"Lester just about fell over." He said laughing. "We never get to see that kind of shit out here. Actually, you have made things nice. You have successfully brightened this place up. I have never seen Lester's jaw drop before. It was beautiful."  
I took a deep breath. "So were good?"  
"Yeah, sure. You have become part of the family I think. Like it or not."  
Hal sent me in to find all the secret ingredients for his special sauce. It was like a scavenger hunt trying to find these things. Lester was in the kitchen when I went in.  
"Hey Lester." I said, trying to catch his eye.  
"Stephanie." He said, looking at the ground,the table or anywhere else but at me.  
I knew that he and I were at an awkward stage. He had seen me, as Hal stated "Bare ass naked." He apparently was uncomfortable with it. More so than even I was. "Hal sent me in here to find some of this stuff, I don't suppose you could help me find it?" I handed him the paper Hal had given me.  
He looked around, not for the ingredients, but to see if anyone was watching. "You know, you gotta close the curtains when you get dressed upstairs." He said in a low voice.  
"Thank you, Lester. I will."  
"It was pretty fricken funny." He continued. "Hal just about had a heart attack. He literally dropped the weights he was carrying on his foot when those curtains opened."  
Great. Ranger wasn't kidding. I guess that little stunt would forever be embedded in their brain.  
Tank was sitting at the table talking to Ranger. He looked serious. He was concerned about something. Ranger was leaning back in this chair listening. I know a private conversation when I see one, so I found everything Hal needed with the help of Lester and walked back outside.  
It wasn't long before Ranger joined us outside. He asked me to come upstairs with him. I followed him up, and watched as he grabbed a duffle bag from the closet and began packing. "I have to take off for the night." he said. "I have some things I need to finish, and it has to be done in person. Tank is coming with me, but Hal, Lester and Ramon will be here. Tank made arrangements for a plane to take you back to Scottsdale. You need to talk to the police and find out if they know anything about what happened at the office. It is easier to do in person then trying to get anything over the phone. I have a feeling you would like to get your gun, and some clothes from your apartment at the office. Hal,Ramon and Lester will go with you." He paused for a moment, zipping up his bag. "I know it is beyond reason to hope that you could let Hal and the rest of the team go in and collect your things for you while you are with the police. I know this already and so do they. But,there is a good possibility that there are people in Scottsdale now that have the contract. You will only stay safe if you stay with the team. Wear your vest at all times, even when you go into the cop shop."  
I was nervous. "So you think that there will be people watching for me now?"  
"Yes."  
"What changed?"  
"The contract has been out now from the big boys for a while now. It would be stupid not to have picked up your scent in Arizona by now."  
My heart skipped. I sat down and stared at my shoes. Would I always have a hit out on me. Where could I go that would be safe? Eventually they would find me anywhere. I would have to change how I lived to survive, and that did not sound like a lot of fun right now. Ranger came over to me and took his hand pulling my chin up so I had no choice but to look at him.  
"Wear your vest. You will be OK as long as you stay with Hal."  
He handed me the reservations. and smiled down at me almost affectionately. What the hell was that? Ranger affectionate? I began to wonder if I was just a toy, or if it was real. I decided not to ask. I didn't want to know the answer right now.  
"If you have to go searching for your cousin, or do anything other than just going and grabbing some things from the office, try to keep everyone with you. I am not going to tell you what you can and can't do out there, Stephanie. You have to keep your own council on what you want to risk. Do not lose the team, and don't get dead."  
"So, your okay with me wanting to squeeze the life out of my cousin? No one is going to try to stop me? "  
"I trust you will make good choices."  
Ranger picked up the bag and threw it over his shoulder. "Your plane leaves at 7am. You should be done and back here by five." He pulled me in and kissed me. "Be careful."  
There was a saying I heard once that said "If you give them enough rope, they'll hang themselves." I was hoping this was not the case.  
I white knuckled it back to Scottsdale with the same plane, but Ramon was the pilot. Hal sat in front and Lester squeezed next to me. I kept the parachute on my lap and waited for fate to take me.  
I looked at Lester beside me. "How come there is only one parachute?"  
He raised his eyebrows and looked around. "I don't know, but If we are going down in this baby, you're not flying solo. The door is next to me. "  
I hadn't thought of that. I had a feeling all of them would be trying to use the one parachute. I took a deep breath and tried not to panic.  
There was a rental car waiting for us when we landed. Scottsdale was already over the one hundred degree mark. Later on in the day would approach hotter than hell status in my book, and I planned on being indoors by that time if possible. We went to the Police Station, and I gave them my statement about the break-in and the shooting. Officer Flanders said they would send someone to the scene to make a report. No one had reported any shots fired. He asked the basic questions. If I had contacted our insurance company, and he suggested a decent alarm system for the building. While I was there, I asked about what I should do about the website Joyce had put up. He suggested a really good lawyer, then proceeded to ask for the website name so he could check it out. When I wouldn't give it up, he took a large file from under the desk, and place it in front of me.  
"Before you got here, we decided to run a background check on you, miss Plum. It was very interesting."  
He pushed it towards me. It was four inches thick. I opened it. There were pictures and newspaper articles about various accidents, cars blown up, apartment fires, the funeral home.. The list went on and on. It was a huge pile of incidents, including financial problems, and work history. Then there was my involvement with various people of interest, including Lula and Jackie. Connie, Ranger, Mooner, Sally, and Vinnie. I couldn't believe that this much information was available to anyone. I guess my dream of becoming a government spy was now shot to shit.  
I groaned. "Are you telling me that anyone who wants to, can get all this information about me from a background check?"  
"Well, maybe not as thorough, but it's all there if you search it out."  
I walked out, kind of feeling deflated from looking at my own file of garbage I had been involved with. A black Hummer drove by me, and pulled up to the back of the building where we unload passengers to the dock. It took a minute for my brain to register the owner of said vehicle. My eyes got big as I watched a little weasel of a man get out of the passenger side of the truck and open the back door to a screaming Carl Fontaine. We had been tracking him for about a month. He was handcuffed, and it looked to me like he had been pepper sprayed way too many times. Vinnie and Joyce were dropping him off. Vinnie was unloading Carl. He didn't look so good. Carl's Face was red from being gassed to much, and he had puked all over his pants. I grabbed Carl from him, holding his cuffs tight.  
"Hey, Vinnie." I said.  
He looked at me and almost smiled.  
"Stephanie, your back!"  
"I know about the website, you dog turd."  
Vinnie gave me a deer in the headlights look and turned tail. He jumped in the Hummer. The truck lurched forward and barreled out of the parking lot. Joyce gave me the finger. I screamed at them, as they turned the corner, disappearing. "Grandma Plum and Grandma Mim are going to get you for that, Vinnie! Not only them, Me. Vinnie. Just wait. You better take that thing down before I sue you, you little prick!"  
I took a hold of Carl and asked for the paper work on him. The man at the front desk pretended he didn't see anything whatsoever of the incident outside. If Joyce and Vinnie were just going to leave him here, I should at least get the money for him.  
Hal and the rest of the crew were waiting outside the station for me. I wanted my clothes. I wanted my Jeep. I wanted my gun. I wanted my dignity back. The website was intrusive, embarrassing, and It really pissed me off that they both could stoop lower than dirt to do that to me. I rescued Vinnie. I sometimes even defended him. All the information that I saw in the file at the station, none of it was stating that most times, I got my man. It was deserving of at least a paragraph in the research of my life. One thing had changed. I didn't want to go hide and feel bad about it. I have had plenty of guys shoot at me before, It should not stop me from living my life. Plus, I just didn't feel like I was going to die today. That made me feel pretty good. I wanted to find Vinnie and Joyce. I wanted to do it alone. Having an escort was annoying. I had three babysitters. My good sense temporarily must have taken a coffee break, suddenly I knew what I had to do.  
"I need to stop at the mall. It will just take me a second."  
Hal and Lester both looked at each other. Ramon raised his eyebrows and looked down, texting something to someone.  
"What are you doing?"  
He looked like he had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
"Um, We have to report everything that goes on. Those are the rules. I'm not losing my job."  
I did not like to be under surveillance. As a matter a fact I hated it. I couldn't think straight when I had bodyguards surrounding me. I was frustrated, still aggravated over the stupid file on the desk at the cop shop. I wanted to go to the office, go to the house, get my gun, punch Vinnie. Then, I wanted to talk to Kyle about what happened at the office. I wanted him to know. Plus, I didn't say goodbye. He had become a friend. It was rude if I just left. I wanted to talk to him alone. I knew it was risky, I knew It was dangerous. I knew I would do it anyway.  
Vinnie and I were pretty good at our job out here in Arizona, and because we didn't have a lot of back up, we set things up in certain places for emergencies. A little blue Ford Escort was one such set up. It was in the parking lot right outside the back entrance of Victoria's Secret.  
Hal,Lester & Ramon walked into the mall with me, but stopped short when I walked into Victoria's Secret. They waited outside. I knew I was being childish. I wasn't being grown up at all. I yelled at myself, but my brain just kept going. I guess I wasn't under control of my feelings yet. I was out the back door and into a little Ford Escort in 2 and 2. Ranger would have come in with me. Ranger would have been keen on what I was doing moments before I knew what I was doing. Ranger would have enjoyed watching me sweat about it too. He also would have made me model things just to make it worse. I can always depend on the merry men not to want to go into a lingerie shop with me. The store has a great backdoor, and a manager that loves to get a twenty under the table for helping out with something exciting. It probably wasn't the smartest move I had made, but I needed to think. I wanted to face Vinnie without an audience, and without Ramon texting my every move. I didn't care that everyone would be pissed. Sometimes I felt like I was the President's unruly daughter that had to be protected from herself.  
I motored over to the bonds office first. Taking a deep breath. It was only a few days ago this drive was an everyday thing. It was nice to be alone. I had a little more than twenty minutes before Hal, Lester and Ramon would be here. They knew where I was going to go. Vinnie was not there. The office had been cleaned up, but the files were still out of the cabinets. Not put away yet. Glass had been swept up, and the front door had been replaced. I ran up the stairs two at a time, and started packing up my clothes. I liked this office; I liked to be in control of Scottsdale's bonds. I looked over at my laptop and all the work that I had accomplished out here; I am good at something. I was good at managing an office and I was pretty decent at picking up skips. I was even better at research. I was no Sherlock Holmes, but most of the time could figure out how to pick someone up and get them to the cop shop before the bond ran out.  
My twenty minutes were up, and I heard voices downstairs. Footsteps walking up the stairs towards me. I didn't look up. I knew that the merry men would find me; it was obvious where I was. I glanced up, ready to be reprimanded for losing them at the mall. Two men were standing at my bedroom door. Rifles trained on me. I believe I stopped breathing. One was very tall and thin. He wore a baseball cap over his long stringy dishwater blond hair. He had on a stained wife beater and a jean vest that had once been a jacket. His faded jeans needed to be washed two weeks ago. He was smiling at me. His brown stained teeth gapped. He looked about forty with a scraggle of a beard that had tried to come in, but didn't have the strength.  
"Well, well, well." He said. "I knew that you would finally come back to the office. I told Tanner here, that it was only a matter of tick-tocks before we got a chance at the prize, and lookie here. I was right."  
Tanner stood a few feet behind him, smiling a nearly toothless grin. He had worse hygiene than baseball cap did. His teeth were close to green. He was short. About five foot three, and matched his width to his length. He looked square. What was left of his hair was a chilling bright orange color. He had on what used to be a white t-shirt and a black leather vest. Tattoos rolled down his pudgy arms. Baseball Cap took a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He glanced at it and handed it over to his partner, Tanner.  
"Yep, that's her." Tanner said, stuffing the paper into his pocket.  
My gun was still at Vinnie's house. My pocketbook was on the bed. I had left the stun gun at the cabin. I did have my cell phone and a tracker, but no Hal, no Lester, and no Ramon. I was screwed. This is why you don't lose your bodyguards. I slid a glance to the window, trying to judge the distance from here to the ground and believed it might not be in my best interest to try it.  
"Step away from the window, and come towards us nice and careful like." He said. "Unless you want your brains all over your pretty little shirt, there."  
The last thing I wanted was to go to them. I stood motionless, trying to come up with a plan.  
"OK, I said. I need my bag, though." I took a step towards it. My four ounce can of high-octane pepper spray was in the bag. I had to get it.  
"We are not fucking around here. He lowered his gun and fired. Searing pain hit me, and I screamed. The bullet hit me in the leg. It burned, sending panic signals to my brain. I went down on one knee, trying to suck it in. Trying and failing to keep calm and not cry. Tears rolled down my face, more in a rage of anger than fear. He shot me! I tried hard to pretend I was defeated.  
"Crawl to me." Baseball cap sneered. "Now bitch, or I will use this weapon to eliminate your head from your shoulders."  
I knew I didn't have much of an option; I crawled to him, waiting for a chance to get away. It was painful; I focused on using the pain as a tool to stay angry. He pulled me up by my hair. I wanted to kill this jackass. The pain doubled as I put pressure on my leg to stand up. I held my breath, trying to stay alert and upright as he pulled me through the door backwards. He held his gun against my temple. I let myself go dead weight, making it harder for him to drag me. He pulled me down the stairs talking to Tanner.  
"Bring the car around. We gotta get, before someone spots us."  
I decided in an instant that I did not want to die at the hands of these bozos. This was not the way I wanted things to end. I threw all my weight at him as he took a step down one of the stairs. We fell down the stairs backwards. He had to let go of my hair to get a grip on the railing. When that happened, his gun hit his arm and discharged shooting himself in the face. Tanner saw what happened and ran. He got about five feet, before he was picked up and thrown across the room by Lester. Hal was behind him. He helped me up.  
"Let's get you secure before I get fired."  
Hal & Ramon drove me to the hospital to get my leg looked at. Lester stayed behind with the police and the coroner. The bullet had done a through and through in my leg. It traveled through the top of my leg and exited out the back, not staying inside and not causing a lot of damage. I needed stitches, and antibiotics. The doctor said I would have a scar, but that I would be Ok. Hal looked like the color was coming back into his face. I was sorry that I had left them. I smiled at him, but he just shook his head. I think he wanted to strangle me for putting myself in danger, but he wasn't allowed. Ramon was texting furiously. I was sure that he was giving the report to the bat cave or a space station. I had given my statement to the homicide detective that came down to the hospital. He said that Tanner Derby was a local, and had a sheet on him that took five minutes to print out. It kept getting longer every time they picked him up. He was already talking. The pair thought that they could pick me up and let someone else kill me. They just wanted the money for the pick up. The other man was Rudy Morgan, he was a local also. They were street hustlers looking for easy money.  
This was going to to need to be resolved. The next time someone took a shot at me, I had a feeling they would be successful. My nine lives were up. We left the hospital. The Police let me collect my things from the office. I suspect they wanted us to leave their peaceful town and move on. I didn't get any flack from Hal. Ramon had chosen to keep quiet, and Lester was in security mode. Sunglasses and all.  
We drove to the house. My jeep was still parked out front. Joyce's Hummer was parked halfway into the garage. Joyce walked out the front door as we pulled in. I jumped out of the front seat and slammed the door. No one followed me. I limped up the driveway, determined. She walked towards me and I sucker punched her, and broke her nose. She dropped in front of me, and I kicked her for good measure. I went inside, collected my gun, and left. I hoped I ruined her face. I didn't see Vinnie. He was probably hiding in the bathroom like a little girl. I wrote a note and left it on the table. It said "I'm suing you. The site better be down in the next 48 hours, Vinnie."  
My Jeep was in the driveway. I really wanted to keep it. It was in my name, and I bought it with cash. Hal made arrangements for it to be in Trenton in a couple of days. It would be parked at Rangeman. We dropped by the Dojo on the way back to the airport. Kyle was waiting for us. Hal, Lester and Ramon all saluted him when we walked in. Kyle was in his black gi. It looked like we had caught him in the middle of his training exercises. I had to say, If I stayed in Scottsdale, I would have wanted more from him than just training. He was all kinds of fine. Dark hair,light brown eyes. The body of a martial artist. Agile and graceful. I told him about what happened. His face grew dark. He looked at the team behind me. They all stood at ease, arms folded in front of them. I knew they were angry with me.  
"Are you guys going soft? You lost a civilian?"  
"Sir." Ramon said. "She is not a civilian. She is a tyrant. Slippery like a snake. Smart, and Ranger said we weren't allowed to restrain her."  
My mouth must have dropped to the floor, because I was looking for it. "Slippery like a snake"? "A tyrant"?  
They talked as if i wasn't there! "Excuse me," my eyes cut across to Ramon. "What did you just say?"  
Ramon was still standing at ease, in front of Kyle. His eyes cut back to me. "You lost us, Stephanie. You left us scrambling, like you always do. We all like you. Its good to keep our skills sharp, but Ranger will freak out if we don't keep you safe. You don't trust us. You always run. You're going to get killed acting like a vigilante. We will feel the wrath for it when it happens. We will be blamed for it. Ranger would likely break up the team, if something like that happened. None of us are willing to go to bat for you anymore unless you work with us. This is between us, and you. If I hear you tell him we had this conversation, my head will be on a stick. We are a team, we invite you in. Stick to us."  
Kyle watched all this unfold in front of him. "That is the best advice you will ever receive, Stephanie. Don't fuck up the friendship and teamwork with this group, and you will forever be family with them. They will not only watch your back, but they will die for you. I know this first hand. Ranger's team is faithful to the death. Be a part of it, you won't regret it. Decide to go off on your own, you will be standing out there naked."  
Kyle gave me a book on some of the training practices we had worked on. He told me to be careful, and if I needed anything, I knew where he was. He kissed me on the forehead, and told me he was impressed I had lost one of the best trackers and teams he had ever worked with. He was looking forward to seeing where my life led.  
The plane ride back to New Mexico was quiet. Ramon put it all out there on the line for me. Of course they were right to be pissed that I had done this again, making them look bad. I got spanked right in front of Kyle, and I was feeling a little defeated from the experience. Ramon was letting me be one of them, but in return, i had to start trusting. That one was difficult for me.  
I didn't know what to say. We were almost to the cabin, And I asked Ramon to stop the truck. "Do you really think I'm a tyrant and a slippery snake?"  
He smiled. "Those may not have been the best words for it, but you are making us look bad. We all like you. Work with us, not against us. We are a family, and Ranger invited you in. That means you are part of us. Trust us. Give us credit. We could have worked that out with the office, and you wouldn't have gotten shot. We are here to keep each other alive. Just trust us, and be part of the team, and things will go a lot smoother."  
I made peace with them. They felt that they were all my brothers now. I guess that would be OK. A girl needed big brothers to help her out once in a while. We drove back to the cabin a lot happier. I still wondered about the tyrant and snake comment, but I would keep it to myself.  
I thought a lot about what to do next. I was having the Jeep brought to Trenton. I was anxious. I didn't know what to do to fix this. I didn't know what to expect when I got back, either. I missed my family. I missed my old life. I still missed Joe. I sighed. That part of my life was over, and I had no idea how to deal with seeing him again. He lived there, he worked Homicide. I would have to face him. It had been almost a year. It was still painful, but it was getting better. His presence still cluttered my life and my heart. He was part of my past, and I needed to deal with it. I hugged myself. It was going to be a long few weeks. I had grown up a little, I learned a lot, and I had kept my Jeep. That had to count for something.  
Ranger came in with Tank after midnight. I had tried to stay up and wait for them, but instead fell asleep watching a nature show about cactus. Everyone was anxious about getting home. The whole atmosphere was different from yesterday. Ranger was all business when he walked in. He had a big file of papers in one hand and his pack in his other. Without a word, Hal and Lester picked up and left.  
Tank got himself a glass of water and smiled at me. "I wish I would have been there to see you punch Joyce. He blew me a kiss. Goodnight Stephanie."  
I said goodnight as he walked out the door. I shut the TV off. Ranger dropped the files on the table, shrugged his pack of his shoulder, dropped his gun belt on the floor, took off his jacket and came over and sat down on the couch opposite me. He leaned forward. The lights were low in the cabin, but I could see his eyes. He looked concerned.  
"That could have gone a lot smoother, today. You're lucky they didn't kill you. How's your leg?"  
"It hurts."  
He continued to stare at me. "Can you stand?"  
"Yeah, I can stand." I stood up to show him I wasn't completely helpless.  
"Drop your pants."  
Ranger had said strange things to me before, but I didn't know where he was going with this.  
"What? Now. Here?"  
I was standing there, thinking,what if one of the guys came back in? I was feeling kind of modest about just dropping my pants in the living area, of basically a frat house.  
Ranger sighed.  
"Come here then, he said. I want to see the wound, and I can't see it if you don't take your pants off."  
"Oh. Ok. That's different." I said lamely.  
I limped over to him and he undid the button on my jeans. I felt a hot flash go through me. Remembering the last time we were together. I tried to pretend I didn't feel it. I mean, this was NOT supposed to be a sexual thing, and he just wanted to see the bullet hole. But when I looked at him, his eyes had turned dark. His pupils encased the brown of his eyes, and I could tell that just being near my buttons was getting to him.  
He put his thumbs inside the lining of the jeans, and shimmied them over my hips, down to my ankles. I stepped out of them. I was standing in front of him in just my hot pink lace thong. I wore them for courage. After the bullet hole, I needed something to make me feel better.  
Ranger's eyes focused on them. His breathing got deeper. He slid his finger along the lace elastic, then his eyes slid down to where the bullet hit me. There was a huge bandage around my leg. He inspected the binding, making sure that it was secure.  
He stood up behind me and touched the back of my shoulder-blade, the pressure from his thumbs working it out the kinks from the last 24 hours. The pain in my leg was going away. He kept the pressure on and I closed my eyes. He kissed my neck, just below my jaw line. I was putty in his hands. His fingers crept back to my panties.  
"We should really get upstairs, and get some sleep. We need to get up early tomorrow; I can't put off any of this police shit anymore." When I looked at him, I could see sleep was pretty far from what he wanted. Before I had a chance to speak, He grabbed my clothes, picked me up and took me upstairs.  
Morning came too soon, and covers were pulled away from me. I groaned, and went into the bathroom to take a shower and get dressed. Ranger had been up, probably for hours. I was sure by now he had probably run twenty miles , flew around the world, did jumping jacks on Mount Rushmore and Tie Chi.  
Me, No. I stood in the shower, starting to wake up as the water hit my skin. I had to wrap my leg in plastic before getting in, so the bandage didn't get wet. Getting shot was a pain in the butt. I decided I would try harder not to do that anymore. What was I thinking, losing the team to try to handle everything alone? I dried my hair, slathered mascara on my eyes, applied some smokey black eyeliner and managed to get my hair to cooperate. I looked pretty good for someone who just fell down the stairs, and got shot. My knuckles hurt a little and I looked at them, remembering Joyce. I didn't break anything. All was well. It was a great punch. I needed to thank Kyle for that when I got a chance.  
I padded downstairs. Enjoying the cool air and the silence of the morning. I checked the fridge in hopes of finding breakfast pastries and muffins. The kitchen held the usual. There were bagels and coffee, fruit and cheese.  
I wanted cereal, milk and a boatload of caffeine. I opted for a bagel, cream cheese, honeydew and coffee. Thank goodness for coffee, or I would turn into a toadstool. I brought it all over to the big table. The meeting was this morning. Time for reality to hit. I was more ready for it this time. I suppose hitting Joyce and breaking her nose made me feel better.  
The front door opened and everyone ambled in dressed in Rangeman black, all looking professional and ready to take on the world. They gave me the confidence I lacked. Ranger came in last. No one chose casual today. Ranger took business seriously. they took a seat at the table. Ranger handed everyone a thin folder. Inside we had all the information he had compiled. I opened it. There were pictures and profiles of about 10 different people. All associated with the problem I was having. Tony the Tool, Fredrick the Weasel, Aerie and Betty Watson from Killemall, Montana, Leo Farnsworth, who was in the backseat of the Watson's Cadillac, Then there was a picture of me. Four other pictures were of people I had never seen. Ranger sat down next to me and touched the computer screen. It came on. The screen was large, about 30 inches wide. The image was separated into four boxes. Each box had a table of eight people. I knew one had to be Rangeman, in Trenton. I was guessing the other two were other Rangeman locations. The last, was an image of a room I had been in before. It was the conference table for Trenton PD. Five people were sitting at the table including Joe Morelli. My heart fluttered for a moment. I looked at Ranger.  
"Can they see us?"  
"Yeah," He said quickly. He turned to the monitors.  
"Good morning, Gentleman." He said "I want to thank everyone for coming in early to do this. Just so everyone knows, Trenton P.D is with us, so heads up everyone.  
Ranger introduced the room, and then the others. Some people I had met before, most I had not. When they got to the Trenton table, I could see Joe was still there. He looked good, He also looked happy. Not sad,depressed, heartbroken or ready to kill himself. He actually looked relaxed. I took a deep breath and went with the flow. I listened to the reports of what had gone on and what had changed since yesterday.  
Trenton Police had been investigating Tony "The Tool" for over five years. When his name resurfaced eleven months ago, everyone was elated. Hoping they could finally bring him in. Then, he disappeared again. Two weeks ago, at least four hit men that the police knew about were in Trenton. Informants were talking. No one knew what was going down. Only that a target was coming back into the game, and the money for the hit was growing. Two weeks. That couldn't have been me. I was not planning to come back two weeks ago. I felt maybe this meant that I was not the target after all. Apparently no one else thought I was out of hot water yet. It appeared everyone was more concerned with this news.  
Joe was the first to speak. "Look, I don't know what you're thinking of doing, but bringing Stephanie back now is extremely dangerous, and stupid. With all that we have just given you, you should reconsider. We might even be able to put her in some kind of protection custody. Keep her safe and away from this until we can figure out what's going on. Unless you are looking to get her killed, you need to keep her away from Trenton."  
"I appreciate your thoughts on this, but it is not my decision." Ranger said. "This is Stephanie's. I think she has a good point; This needs to be dealt with at a professional level. Running and hiding never helped anyone. Dealing with this up front is the only way to resolve this. I agree with her decision to go back."  
Joe looked at me, He seemed to really look this time. He smiled, but it looked from here like a stressed smile.  
"It's nice to see you again, Stephanie. I hope you know what you're doing." Joe had lost his happy and relaxed look. In Fact, He looked really pissed off.  
Ranger Continued. "Plum Bail Bonds was hit in Scottsdale four days ago, we don't know if there is a connection, only that the bottom floors were searched, and we have reason to believe that two snipers took shots at Stephanie to engage her to leave and possibly lead them to the second residence."  
Joe sat up straight in his chair, and looked down at the papers in front of him. Ranger let that sit for a moment and then continued. "We have evidence linking these events to the FBI investigation over the disappearance of Fredrick "The Weasel" Camarillo. He was found a month ago. We now believe that a hit was initially called on Stephanie because she either took, or was thought to have taken something from Paul Banter, aka Fredrick Camarillo. Possibly the incriminating evidence against the families of organized crime in New York and Trenton. The FBI, we feel could be looking for ways to cover up the mistake they made. Losing the witness and the evidence, and hoping that they could recover original footage of Miss Plum and Fredrick Camarillo at the residence of Vincent Plum and Stephanie Plum in Scottsdale, Arizona. We have no way of confirming any of this. Please keep this as theory only. There has already been an attempt on her life. As of yesterday, this is a high priority case for us. The details of the attempt have been faxed to all of you."  
I could see Joe, he ws looking at the new information sitting in front of him. "Are you seriously telling me, Manoso, that Stephanie has already been shot in the leg, shot by FBI snipers, knocked down the stairs, and has killed a hit man all in the course of 3 days? Un-freakin'-believeable. And you actually think coming back to Trenton to face the Mob is a safe thing to do?"  
I could feel the tension in the air. If these two were together in the same room, there would be a real problem. All hell would feel the wrath. I read through the updates, making sure I was up to speed on everything.  
Calmly Ranger continued to speak, ignoring Joe's raised voice and temper tantrum. "Just so you know, for my squad, Miss Plum is not a client, this investigation is personal. Please treat her with the same respect that you treat me. I will reimburse Rangeman for any expenses incurred."  
When he said this, I shifted my eyes first to Ranger, and then to the screen where Joe was sitting. Joe was glaring now. Ranger might as well have said "Mine!" Grabbed me by the hair and pulled me back into the cave. I felt my face flush, and my leg started shaking. Ranger was calmly sitting next to me, and I felt his hand rest on my knee and quiet it. He left it there. It was more comforting than possessive. I knew Ranger said what he did as an Alpha Male, personal property-let Joe know that I was not up for grabs thing. It really didn't bother me like I thought it would. Having Ranger set up boundaries was OK. At least for now, maybe I could use some.  
Ranger ended the meeting with a thank you, and telling his team when we would be arriving back into town, and what he expected from RangeMan employees when he came in the door. The screen went black in front of us. I started looking through the file that was in front of me instead of looking at the people who were in the room. Ranger was using his personal account for me; Joe was freaking out. All these new updates. No one said anything. Not Ramon, not Tank, not Lester, and not Hal.  
It had never been discussed what my role was with Ranger, only that at RangeMan I was his personal property, which I thought was rude. I was told to deal with it, on more than one occasion, and it never felt right. Ranger didn't seem to notice. He was in a zone. Trying to deal with keeping people in check and working out mathematical formulas for Flubber for all I knew. He got up from the table, and went upstairs to pack his things. I looked at everyone else at the table, and they just stared at me.  
"What?" I said, flustered.  
"If you look at it the way Joe said it," Tank said. "It has been a pretty crazy week."  
Why was Joe concerned about me anyway? It was none of his fricken business. He was calling me a walking disaster; I could hear it in his voice. Jerk.  
And Ranger. I knew I wasn't a client; but it still was a strange way to put things. I went upstairs to collect my things and get going to New Jersey out-of-the-way. It felt like years since I had been there, and I was apprehensive. I felt like my head was on fire. I was still feeling the sunburn I had gotten. I think I may have burned my scalp.  
Ranger was in the bathroom. Gathering things, cleaning up and getting the cabin ready to be closed up again. I started putting my stuff in my bag and looking around, making sure I didn't leave anything. To say it was an uncomfortable silence was putting it lightly. I didn't know how to approach the topic of "what happens with us in Jersey?" Without looking like I was getting my hopes up. I didn't know what I really wanted from Ranger. I thought we had gotten really close the last few days, and I did want it to continue. Having him say one of his "no commitment" lines was going to make me feel different this time. I needed to just keep my mouth shut, and be a big girl. I was pretty positive Ranger would revert into "Ranger Mode" when we got back, and I had to be ready for the let down.  
Ranger finished his bathroom clean-up and walked over. He sat down on the side of the bed, putting his leg up leaning against the headboard.  
"If I said something that bothered you down there, I need to know."  
"The speech about the personal thing, what was that supposes to mean?"  
He sat there quietly for an annoyingly long time. I started to just gather my things again. Waiting for the inevitable.  
"You are not a business decision, Stephanie. You are also not a commodity, and you are not something I can run numbers around. You and I have a personal relationship, one that I have no control over. I can't put it under entertainment anymore. I don't know where this is going. I cannot put a time and date stamp on you, like I can with others. Just so the rest of the company knows, and so my books are right at the end of the month, I have to accommodate for you."  
We stood and stared at each other in silence. I was expecting some unemotional hogwash like he always gives me. I believe he was telling me he cared about me, and he said it out of respect for me, maybe even for us. I finally broke the silence and asked what time we were leaving. I had found a connection between Ranger and I. Whatever was going on between us was going to be given some serious thought and not just from my point of view either. For now, we had a plane to catch.


	10. Chapter Ten

New Mexico was clear across the United States from Trenton, New Jersey. Rangeman leased a private jet. Five of us; not including the pilot and copilot, boarded the plane. The Challenger Eight-Fifty was mid size. Because of this, we needed to use the same runway as large commercial jets. Ranger's company leased the plane for employees to travel quickly across state lines. Not only was it convenient, but it was the most comfortable airplane I had ever been on. Plus, no security checks to go through meant a lot less hassle for everyone. With a serious threat on my life, I believed using a private plane decreased the chance of a shooter getting to collect on my bounty.  
Ramon drew the short straw and had to stay back at the cabins to wait for the cleaning service and lock up. He would also see to it that my Jeep was on a transport back to Jersey. He'd take a commercial flight home. Ramon had put it all out there for me at the Dojo. He was right, too. I was a pain in the butt to hold on to. I did have to admit it felt pretty good to know I could out maneuver every one of Ranger's guys. If they were going to have my back, I needed to have some respect for them. What they brought to the table as far as family and friendship, strength and skill was worth me giving them the respect they truly deserved.  
We waited to takeoff, as a plane taxied down the runway. I sat in the seat closest to the window in the middle of the plane. The inside was plush. It had beige carpet and large comfortable leather seats. They were color coordinated to match perfectly. At every chair they had ports for plugging in any electronic device you preferred to use, and plenty of room to recline and sleep. The bar was stocked and the bathroom was larger than one on a commercial jet. It was very strange being on a plane this size without other passengers. You didn't have to worry about who would sit next to you, or if the guy behind you would kick your chair, or sneeze in your hair. This time I was not holding on tight to a parachute, that had to count for something. Although I did sit close to the emergency exit.  
I wore my black suit. I wanted to look professional, and I wanted to feel ready to face my home town, and my problems. I had a pretty decent tan from being in the sun every day, and I thought I looked pretty good. I was scared, but I was ready. I had Ranger's team, I knew they were here for me. I also had on my bulletproof vest. I would have worn a helmet, but It would have messed up my hair. The Sig Sauer is a decent size gun and I would be wearing it in a shoulder holster over my Kevlar vest. Kyle had given me basic lessons on firing this type of weapon, along with cleaning and maintaining it. Ranger told me that learning about your weapon makes it an important tool that can save your life. Not knowing anything about it, could get you killed. I never liked guns, but having trained with it, I felt safer having this one with me.  
The plane took off quietly. I adjusted my seat for the ride home, and closed my eyes. I hardly felt the plane move, much less leave the ground. I looked out over the mountains of New Mexico. It felt good to be safe inside Ranger's world. Of course it didn't stop me from believing that what happened at the cabin, stayed at the cabin. Ranger was Ranger. I was still the same girl, and I knew I wouldn't be able to handle a casual relationship, as much fun as it might be. I needed more than that.  
I sat back in the chair and enjoyed the comforts of the luxury jet. On one side of the aisle there were five large single seats. Each one facing each other. On the other side, double seats. These had a small table in-between each set. Ranger and Tank sat on one side of the aisle in the double seats. Lester and Hal reclined in the seats in the front of the plane; Eyes closed, arms crossed. Casual relaxed. I watched Ranger as he cleared off the table and rolled out a large map, with schematics of what looked like a building. Rangeman, from what I knew about it, provided and monitored security systems for businesses and residences all over North America. When I left for Scottsdale, Rangeman was expanding. It kept his team pretty busy. They were handling clients and setting up new security systems. Keeping up with new technology and methods to keep businesses secure in a changing environment. After 911, people are more afraid of terrorist actions. More fear, more security. Market concerns on Wall Street put another notch in Rangeman's belt, and they started a security guard section of the company. It was a changing field, and they were at the top of the list for reputable companies. I knew they wanted to expand to other parts of the world, but for now, it was an American company. Rangeman had offices in Trenton, Atlanta and Florida that I knew about. It was likely that had grown in the year I was away. Ranger motioned for me to come over and join them.  
"This is the schematics of the Glaskil building." Ranger said tucking the corners of the map under small clips.  
I looked at a drawing of the front of a very large building. Almost square, eight or nine floors with a parking garage below ground level. There was a photograph of the actual building pinned to the front of the drawing. The building was dark gray or black. Tall and ominous in the picture, with storm clouds behind it.  
"Eight floors, plus a parking garage below. There is a security guard shack that checks ID's as each car goes through a gate. They have three armed security guards that walk in interior and exterior of the building twenty four hours a day. They have normal shift changes every eight hours, cameras on each of the doors into the building."Ranger said to me, as he pointed everything out. "In the last nine months, they have had five break-ins. The thieves take computers, software, client's personal information and original works of art that were placed on the eighth floor. There was also a safe was taken in the last heist." Ranger looked from Tank to me as we listened. "The owner of the building is losing leases. Clients are finding safer, better places to do business. Right now, the offices are being leased to small law firms and there is one floor that holds government offices for FEMA. Glaskil has other offices in the states of Rhode Island, New York, and one in Moscow. So far, New Jersey is the only place this is happening. Glaskil Incorporated has hired Rangeman to fix the problem, whatever it might be. We would be setting up new security systems throughout the building, running thorough checks on employees, and rechecking the footage from cameras the nights they were robbed. This would be one of Rangeman's biggest clients so far. If we can have this building secure, it would put us close to the top of the best security firms in the nation. It would bring in big business, and that is what we have wanted from the beginning. Until I can assemble a team for this, we have to rely on schematics to do the groundwork. This is a new project. I want to go into the building with ideas already set in motion." Ranger Said. "This is a new field for us. What we do is usually provide the security and install smaller systems in residential areas, and empty buildings. We have a few clients that have businesses, but this one will be a huge accomplishment for this company. It could launch us into a bigger playing field. I need to hire a crew just for working these types of scenarios. This is a project we would like to discuss with you."  
"With me?" I pointed to myself, not at all forgetting about the bullet that just traveled through my leg or falling down the stairs, or disobeying just about any order Ranger had ever given to me, and now they were going to offer me a job?  
I looked up from the map, surprised. I had helped Rangeman in the past. Usually doing research, but sometimes I would help by going into houses and figuring out what was wrong with home security systems. Rangeman had some break-ins and it was making the entire company look bad. The company finally figured out it was a bunch of teenagers who were angry Ranger wouldn't hire them. Since then, there have been some changes, mostly getting his employers up to speed with the new high tech underworld that is slowly brewing up from younger generations of people knowing more about computers than the people who created them. I had no real experience with high tech computers or security systems.  
They were now both looking at me. Ranger smiled. "Don't look so surprised. You have worked with us before. You were key to keeping us from losing most of our clients from the break-ins that happened last year. You think on your feet, you are good at determining locations and distances for security systems and since you seem to excel at getting into places you don't belong, you may be able to help customers deter that from happening to them."  
Tank sat back in his chair. He folded his big arms in front of him and reclined. "Before we can be serious about any of this, we need to get your head off the platter."  
"If.. I can get my head off the platter." I said. Right now, I wasn't feeling to confident about that.  
I took a deep breath and I leaned back in the comfortable seat and looked out the window as we traveled over huge plates of land and water. It almost sounded like this was a real job. It was nice to know that I had some talent at something that did not include getting blown up.  
Ranger slid the Gaskil file over to me. "Think about it."  
I opened up the file on the table and began looking through it. There were files that included the initial police reports for the five break-ins. Soon, I was engrossed in the layout of the building. We argued about what should be changed and updated about the systems that were already in place to make it more secure, and at the same time, easy to navigate and enter and exit for employees. You don't want to have a bunch of people confused about how to get into the building without setting off alarms.  
Time went by quickly. All of us deep in thought. After seeing the file, I wanted to do this. I was interested. I wanted a chance to walk through the building, see where the access points and cameras were located. How the security system they were going to install would benefit the one they already had. Soon I felt the plane descend, we were already almost home. My heart skipped a beat as I finished reading and put everything away.  
When we landed at a small airport in the outskirts of Trenton, I was nervous now. It had been a year since I had been back. I was elated, but walking into the hornets nest is usually not a good idea. Would people be looking to kill me the moment I stepped off the plane? Or was I being irrational. Maybe I wasn't that important. Maybe it has all blown over and everyone went home,defeated. Maybe another contract came up and people were busy looking for Joe Schmoo instead of Stephanie Plum.  
Two Black Expeditions waited for us as we exited the plane. I secured my vest. My gun was strapped to my side. I had a tracking device in my pocketbook, along with my four ounce industrial strength pepper spray and my stun gun tucked inside my bag. The team walked me quickly to the trucks. Hal, Lester and Tank climbed in one, and Ranger and I in the other. My brain was back on overload. The team was on high alert. Tension held on the faces of the men that not twenty-four hours ago were playful and relaxed. This was no game. I had to be careful, or I would lose my life.  
It was already 10pm when we got moving back to Trenton. It had been a long flight. We were all tired. I had so many things I needed to do. I had doubts I would be able to get my apartment back, and as of right now, I was out of a job. The Rangeman thing was the future, I still needed to worry about the present, and in the present, I needed work. Connie and Lula were my best option for full time employment, but they may have real bounty hunters working for them. Right now, just a place to sleep would be great. I wanted to close my eyes and breathe Jersey air. I was home, and it felt good.  
We drove through the city. The lights were familiar, and I absorbed myself into watching the buildings and people as the trucks glided along the streets of my home town. I think both of us were tired. It had been a long few days. I leaned back in the chair and looked over at Ranger as he drove. "Stay with me tonight." Ranger said. "You need to keep a low profile, until we can figure out what the next move is going to be." He touched my hand, and stared at me for a minute. His dark eyes shined with lights of Jersey. "Tell me now, if this is not OK."  
I was tired. I had no intention of running off. Rangeman sounded good to me.  
"Plus," He continued. "I was getting use to sleeping next to you." He smiled and turned back to the road.  
"That's bold statement from a man who can't handle commitment. You better watch out Ranger," I teased. "I think your falling for me."  
"You have no idea."  
"Really?" I raising my eyebrows, in surprise.  
He just half smiled and concentrated on the road. We turned the corner, and drove into the underground parking lot at Rangeman. His phone chirped as we parked. He checked the screen, and sent a message back, then put it back in his pocket.  
"Eventually," Ranger said. "We are going to have to discuss our relationship. I know it seems bizarre, but we need to establish boundaries."  
"Boundaries?" I raised my eyebrows, again. What the hell was he talking about?  
His phone vibrated once more. I watched as he checked the message and did some more finger texting, and put it back in his pocket. Ranger looked down again at the phone as another message came in. He looked irritated.  
"Apparently, people know we are back in town. There are some things that I need to take care of. I was trying to postpone them till tomorrow, but it seems that there is some urgency in fixing the problem now."  
I knew I should be curious as to what the hell Ranger was talking about, but I was tired. My brain was mush. I am not sure if I was even awake. I could even be dreaming right now. I pinched myself. It really hurt. I looked around. Yep, still in Rangers truck. Still parked at Rangeman. All I could think about was food and sleep. I didn't care if Ranger drove off into the sunset at this point. Give me the sheets off his bed and Ella's food. I would be fine, thank you. We got out of the truck and looked around. Rangeman was a very secure building, and I felt safe, even out in the open. We were in an underground parking lot, with monitored security. Ranger walked me to the building's elevator, handed me my duffle bag and pulled me in close, kissing me softly. I knew at that moment, sleep could wait. He hit the button, the doors opened. He pushed me in. I watched as he got into the Porsche and drove out. I took the elevator up to seven.  
Ranger's apartment was cool and quiet when I walked in. Ella had put out fresh flowers. I dropped the keys into the silver bowl, listening to the silence. It had changed very little since I had been here last. I walked through each room remembering last words, ghost sounds of the past. I had loved living here. It was impersonal, but it felt safe. Ranger had not been here for months. The scent of him lingered, but only faintly. The apartment looked unused. It was sparse compared to the cabin in New Mexico. I knew Ranger liked to keep his personal life separate from his work. I couldn't find a lot of flaws in that thinking. It might not be how I would want to live, but didn't mean it was wrong. I opened window blinds and looked out over the city. I had missed this place. It was my home.  
I found plastic wrap in the kitchen, and wrapped my leg. I took a long invigorating shower with Ranger's shower gel. I had all the kinks worked out of my back, and my leg was feeling better. I decided on a turkey club and a bottle of beer from his fridge. Thank you, Ella. I plopped down on the couch, and turned on the T.V. There was nothing worthy of my time, so I shut the T. V. off and picked up the folder of information Rangeman had put together about the possible connections between things that had happened to me, and what had been happening in Trenton. I read the updates and all the descriptions three times over. I rubbed my eyes. I couldn't hold them open anymore. I retreated to Ranger's bed and fell asleep on his two zillion count sheets. Whatever Ranger needed to do tonight was his own business. Tonight I had everything I needed right here. Ella was going to go on my Christmas list.  
It was close to dawn when I woke up; Ranger's arm was around me, holding me close to him. He was still sleeping. I could feel his body move with each breath he took. Then it abruptly changed, as if he knew the moment my brain took over the involuntary breathing pattern of my body. He kissed my neck and pulled me to him, and I turned towards him. Our bodies found a slow and lazy rhythm of the morning. Being this close to Ranger this time in his apartment was pure magic. He had me; I never wanted to let him go. Hours later, we were still entwined with each other. His lips played kisses on my shoulder. The Sun was just beginning to lighten the sky.  
Ranger finally spoke. "This is going to become a habit, if you're not careful, Babe.  
I turned to look at him. "If I'm not careful?" I said in my best surprise voice. "What about you?"  
Ranger sat up, leaning against the headboard.  
"I was talking about me." He said. "Maybe we should talk about it."  
Um, sure. Ok. The talk. Great. Not that I didn't realize that it was coming. He is not exactly relationship hungry.  
I sat up next to him on the bed. The day was already started without us. I pulled the covers over me, suddenly I was feeling vulnerable. I didn't want to talk about it. I was afraid of what I was feeling. He was always in control of his feelings, and I was never in control of mine. The thing about Ranger is you never know what will come out of his mouth. He had a tendency to be brutally honest. Sometimes the things he said were hard to take. He didn't hold any regard for feelings, and if you didn't like what he had to say, tough. I expected Ranger to kick me out of his bed eventually. I should never believe he wouldn't.  
He looked intently at me for a moment. Serious.  
"Stephanie, I have relationships that you are unaware of."  
He had my attention.  
He paused, gathering what he was trying to say, and I took a deep breath.  
"It was irrelevant before, but now I am not so sure. My feelings are changing for you; I don't want you to have questions about where things are leading. There are four women I see." He continued, keeping me captive with his eyes. "I keep them private. They keep me private. I see them occasionally, when it is convenient. I have to make a decision about how to handle them. I think we need to figure out where things are going between us."  
He cleared his throat and continued. He was nervous. I had never seen him nervous before. I relaxed a little as I watched him struggle with what he wanted to say.  
"In the last week, we have jumped from casual sex, to something much more serious. I called off a relationship last night that I have had with someone for a very long time. I have no idea how that is going to pan out. There may be some throwback. She was not happy, but it was time I ended it. The other three, I will deal with later. I need to know if this is something that you want. If we decide to step up, and actually see each other, I really need to believe Morelli is not going to be a problem. He always has been there, and it kept me from getting to close. I liked that. But if the tables turn, then we need some boundaries between him and me. I don't want to think about what would happen if we went toe to toe over you."  
To say that this put things in a completely "Um.." category was putting it lightly. Did he just say that? I was more curious with who it was that he had been seeing for a long time, And who the other three women were that shared his bed, than I did with the other thing. I didn't know about Joe. Joe was an open wound. I decided to speak the truth. Ranger has always been upfront with me; I needed to give him the same respect.  
"Joe and I ended our relationship over 11 months ago." I said. "He wants someone who makes his life less complicated. I was apparently the complication. I let him go, Ranger. I did it for him. I am not going to tell you that I am completely over him, because that would be a lie, but something is happening between you and I. I am not afraid of it. I don't think you should be either."  
Ranger's mouth tweaked a little into a tiny smile, and he grabbed me and sat me on his lap. His arms were around me, and he kissed me. "Who said I was afraid?"  
The day started without us. Rangers phone went off for the 5th time, and we were still making out in the shower. He was ignoring it. When we finally emerged, there was no more hot water in the building. He checked his phone; texted something back and got dressed.  
"Tank thinks I went AWOL, I've got get down there. He had to reschedule one meeting today, already."  
He threw on his clothes. Black on Black. Picked up his gun belt, and laced up his boots. I followed him to the door with my towel wrapped around me. I grabbed a piece of fruit from the food Ella had left for us. Bless her. I was starving. Ranger turned to kiss me, but instead, he pulled my towel off me and picked me up. In one fluid moment, his gunbelt was on the floor and he had me pinned to the wall.  
"I have to get downstairs. I have a meeting." His eyes were trained on me. His lips were so close to mine that they touched. His fingers slid up and down my body. I could tell he was fighting to keep himself from losing control and I wasn't about to help him decide at the moment to walk out the door.  
"I know." I said. I couldn't get any other words to come out! His fingers were making things more complicated.  
"I'm going to miss the meeting if I don't leave right now." He said in a low voice.  
"So, leave." I said, secretly hoping that he wouldn't. My heart was beating fast. His hand was now on my backside and traveling down. I let out a small gasp as his fingers grazed the inside of my thigh. I swallowed the piece of fruit that was in my mouth before I choked.  
Ranger's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "You want me to leave?"  
I slid my hand down his pants, and I felt him stir. He leaned into me. I felt his breath heavy on my skin as he slid his lips down my neck. Ranger's phone started to ring, and he threw it across the room.  
It was noon before Ranger made it down stairs. I stood in the bathroom with a towel around my head. I looked into the mirror, pulled the towel off and decided that a pony tail would be the best bet since my hair had dried wet.  
I got dressed. I made Ranger's bed so Ella wouldn't come into a disaster area, and cleaned up the kitchen. I was not that happy with someone else cleaning up after me. I wanted to make it as easy as possible. I dressed for Rangeman today. If I was going to be here, I wanted to fit in. Ella had left the clothes from the other times I had been here, and they were still in Ranger's closet, next to his. I realized when I saw this, that he had kept me close to him, even if it was just clothing. It was a statement. I had put on a black short skirt and black t-shirt, all with Rangeman logos. I did my make-up, and looked at myself in the mirror. "Welcome back, Stephanie. I said to myself. I got into the elevator and went down to the 3rd floor. Before I could step out, Lester stepped in.  
"You need to come with me, now." He said. He pushed me back into the elevator and he hit "Basement 4" on the keypad. I didn't even know this building had a basement 3, much less a basement 4. He had to use a special keypad, and key. I opened my mouth to ask what was happening and he nodded his head.  
"nu uh..shhhh."  
He stood at attention, waiting for the elevator to travel down into the bowels and below the RangeMan building.  
When the doors finally did open we were in some kind of underground bunker. I had no idea that you could get permits to do this in New Jersey. I guess you learn something new every day.  
"We bought this building from a very eccentric millionaire's family. He started building the underground sections in the early 1900's. He used it for numerous activities. Not all were legal. Since then, it has been a lots of different things, even a speakeasy. Below us is a tunnel that was used to smuggle illegal alcohol into the building. They had underground bunkers built down here as bomb shelters during the 1940's and 50's. He was terrified Nazi's would win the war, and that he and his family would be killed. He was a little over the top. He passed away safe and happy that he never had to use his security rooms. Ranger found this building almost by mistake. We had chased someone into one of the top floors. It was in disrepair, and the city had it up for auction. After running through the damn thing, looking for the guy, we we decided this might be an excellent place for our business. We bought the building as soon as it went on the block. We use "Basement One" for the gym, "Basement 2" is the gun range, and "Basement 3" is the first safe room. He had permits for the first two. This one is not on any building schematics. No one knows about it. If you are really paranoid, which he was. There is "basement 4." It's a bomb shelter and also has a "get away" Takes you to a tunnel that leads to the sewer. We use 3 & 4 for "just in case" scenarios and training. Mostly, we store stuff down here. We have actually never used it for anything else. This is the first time. We've never used the tunnel, either. I am hoping we will never need to, I don't like rats."  
"Ok," I said. Nice to have a history lesson once in a while about unusual New Jersey architecture. "But, what am I doing down here? What the hell is happening?"  
"The FBI came to our door this morning. They are looking for you. Ranger doesn't think that it is a good idea for them to find you. They came back with a search warrant. So,here we are."  
"The FBI? Why can't I just talk to them? I did nothing wrong, Lester. Maybe they just want an interview."  
"Maybe, But we don't think you would be safe with them."  
This was getting out of hand. "Les, do you have a phone I can use? I don't want to use mine."  
He gave me his phone, and I called Connie.  
I filled her in a little about what was happening, I needed her to do me a huge favor, and I hoped it was not asking too much.  
It had been two hours since I called Connie. Lester got a text. The FBI had left the building. Everything was secure. I called up and talked to Ranger. I told him about the call I had made. He told me he would be ready. Connie called an hour later. I was pacing the floor as I talked to her. She said that she had what I needed, and to expect them at four. She also said I would owe her big time for this.  
I was nervous. I felt like I was going to throw up. The room in basement four was closing in on me. I never thought I was claustrophobic, but it was getting to me fast. I sat on the floor and put my head down.  
It was 3:45. I was waiting with Ranger in a large conference room. At 4:05, The elevator doors opened. Connie stepped out with five men. They were all in suits, and they all looked serious. Tall Italian men with black hair, not far from what you would expect from a movie about "the family", but a little more casual, than scary.  
Ranger was sitting with me at a table. No guns. The rule stated that all weapons were to be confiscated. We were meeting with New York's right hand man, and Connie's father. Her father was responsible for most of what happened in the underground of New York and Jersey.  
Connie looked good, and she looked confident, like this was going to work. They introduced themselves, then Connie's father looked at me. None of the other men spoke. I tried hard not to bite my lip  
"So this little girl is Stephanie Plum?" He was surprised. I don't know if that made me feel good, or really insulted.  
Ranger leaned on to the table.  
"Gentlemen, we have a problem." They turned their attention from me, thankfully to him. "You have had a good standing relationship with us. Now, it is teetering on being dissolved. I don't want that to happen. I don't feel it would be in our best interest, or yours. What we would like is for you to tell us why Miss Plum has a contract out on her.  
Connie stopped chewing her gum. "There is a contact out on Stephanie? Are you shitting me?"  
The man sitting next to Connie's father, opened a briefcase and slid a single 8x10 photograph onto the table toward me. I took it. It was a picture of a flash-drive no bigger than my pinky finger.  
"Paul Banter, AKA "the Weasel" left the Bandini Corporation with information that could be very bad for a lot of people." The man said. He had a heavy accent, probably from Queens. "He had this information on this flash drive." He leaned back as he told the story. "He kept this fricken' flash drive with him at all times. Had it when he went into a witness protection program. The FBI didn't know about it. It was his safety net. It was on a key chain he kept with him. Looked like just a normal key chain, Kept his car and house key on the same one. We wanted it back, but as you know, he disappeared into the program. Nothing had ever come out about it. We assumed he lost it, or he was keeping it to screw us later. He had it up until Miss Plum picked him up. We know this because he hold us after much time interviewing him."  
I thought back. I remembered a key chain. I had locked Paul's door with it. Where was it now? My mouth had dropped and I was thinking hard, trying to remember what had happened over a year ago. The men in the room looked at me funny.  
"What is she doing, is she ok?" Connie's father looked concerned, and paranoid.  
"I saw that key chain," I said out loud. "I locked his apartment with that key chain!" I looked around. "My bag! It might still be in there!"  
I grabbed my purse, and dumped it out all over the table.  
I had not cleaned my bag out in a long time. Some people do. I had better things to do. Lately, I hadn't needed to clean out my bag, mostly because I have had so many of them destroyed; I barely had enough time to break them in. But since being in Scottsdale, nothing had happened to it. On the table tumbled out empty chewing gum wrappers, old Kleenex, a piece of an old stale doughnut, a frosted flake, eyeliner that had crusted over, tampons, pads, perfume samples, receipts by the dozen, mace, pepper spray, a stun gun, handcuffs, a tracker from Ranger, and another from, I am not sure. My wallet, a lost credit card, a key for a Volkswagen Scirocco, and a set of keys that did not belong to me.  
I picked them up and looked at them. These were not mine. There was toothpaste stuck to them. There was melted lipstick inside the memory stick, and it looked like it had gotten toasted in the sun from being in the car a few times to many. I looked at the older man.  
"Are these the keys?"  
He looked at me with disbelief; then he looked at the pile of garbage and refuse on the table.  
"You mean to tell me, you have had those keys in that purse since you arrested Paul Banter, and you never knew it?"  
Connie blew a bubble."Yep. That is what she is telling ya Uncle Phil."  
I handed him the keys. I didn't want them anyway. They probably made my bag heavy. He looked at the keys in his hand; the flash-drive was burned and a little mangled. He laughed. He got up, with the rest of the men, and started to leave.  
"The hits will be canceled out. I will put the word out ladies and gentlemen, and Stephanie, clean out your purse more than once a year. That is disgusting."  
Tank walked them back to the elevator. Uncle Phil turned to Ranger. "You know, I knew Salvatore. He may have been insane and eccentric, but having this building saved his ass and mine many times. I am glad that it has been restored." The elevator door closed and they were gone.  
I looked at Ranger. He started to laugh. Connie was sitting next to him, and she started to laugh too. They both had their heads in their hands. I have never seen either of them loose it before. I looked at the mess on the table. Geez. I really did need to clean out my bag. I was hoping that the memo about the cancellation would hit the street and make everyone go home. I didn't think it was funny, I almost pee'd my pants when those men were at the table. I started picking up the mess in front of me.  
"Geez, Stephanie." Connie said collecting herself. " I had no idea they had a hit out on you! That could have gone south in a hurry if you didn't have anything for them." I hadn't thought about that. Suddenly, I was grateful that my bag had been untouched.  
I owed Connie big. There is no doubt about it. She asked me on the ride back up to the surface, if I could show her Rangers apartment. I knew she was curious to see what it looked like, just as I had been. Ranger was standing right there. She didn't even care. I looked at Ranger, and he just shrugged.  
"Go. Why not. I owe you, Connie. Take your time, but no peaking in the secret drawer under my underwear."  
He got off at three, and we continued up.  
"He has a secret drawer?" She said looking at me with her eyes wide open.  
I was almost positive he had been joking. Plus, I bet he was watching us to see if we would look.  
We got up to the 7th floor. And keyed into the apartment. Ella had been here again. It was all clean and nice. No signs of this morning's activities, thankfully.  
Connie Gasped. "Wow. Stephanie! This is really sumthin'. Holy Cow!"  
She wandered through the rooms, checking out each one. She sat on his couch and looked in his refrigerator. "You know" She was saying. "About that secret drawer. Do you think it is real? What would he have in there? Kinky stuff I bet." She said looking at me excited. "I think all men have secret drawers. It's where they put all the porno and stuff they don't want anyone to find." We both thought about that for a moment.  
"He was pulling our chains, right?" She said.  
I thought so, since he didn't wear underwear, but I didn't say that. It was too fun to wonder if there was a secret drawer.  
She went into the bedroom. "Holy Crap. Look at this bed! The room smells like Ranger! Wow. I want to live here. This is fantastic."  
I went to the kitchen and got a plate with some cheese, crackers and fruit and sat down on the bed with her and looked around. I had to say, it was pretty fricken cool.  
I took a bite of a cracker. "Thanks for getting me out of trouble, Connie. I can't believe it actually worked." I said.  
"Damn straight it worked. I told Uncle Phil if he didn't fix whatever was wrong, I wouldn't name my first born son after him. They had to cooperate. I had no idea it was a hit. Jesus, Stephanie. That's pretty nuts."  
"There's actually two hits out on me." I said. "The Weasel's hit never got called off either."  
"Oh, don't you worry about that one; they will take care of that." She said, eating a piece of cheese. "That's easy. No one liked that guy, and now that he is dead, no one would get paid. Not to worry. I will put the word out, too."  
"So," she said. "Tell me about Scottsdale. You didn't keep in touch like you said. Little e-mails saying "I miss you guys" is not keeping in touch!"  
I ran through the eleven months of living with Vinnie. Then I told her about Janet, and how Vinnie and Janet had started the website about me. I told her about the break in, how I got shot and shot at, plus the punch I got to give Joyce, the plane rides and how Rangers men had give me an ultimatum, the cabin and the whole shebang.  
She was sitting with me, and suddenly looked around. "Omigod. We are eating cheese and crackers on Rangers bed. That has to be a sin in his book or something. He is going to kill us!"  
I shrugged. I was having fun. I would clean it up later.  
I asked her about the office. What had happened, were they still going strong, and what was the plan now that I was back. She said that not only was the bonds office thriving, but also she had an excellent record for picking the criminals that were easy to catch or hardly a threat. There were lots of high bonds, but before she bonded any of them out, she always reminded them of who she was, and amazingly enough, they had had very little skips.  
She said once in a while, Ranger's men would pick something up, and they had hired a couple competent skip-chasers to help out. I was kind of floored.  
"Wow, Connie. Seems like the office runs itself."  
"Yeah," she said. "But it is not the same without you there. Lula is still Lula, but she will be away a lot more since Tank is around again. I guess they are getting serious. She is less bling, and has been power walking with me. She gets about half way around the block now!"  
I was happy that things were doing well.  
"You know." She said. "We miss you. You can always come back. We still want you to partner with us, ya know."  
I hugged her. She was a good friend. She looked at me as she put more cheese on her cracker.  
"So. You seen Joe?"  
There it was. I took a drink of ice water and grabbed a piece of cheese before answering her.  
"No,You?"  
She took another bite of her cracker. "Have you seen your parents yet? Talked to Grandma Mazur?"  
Why was I getting the feeling that there was all kinds of information that I needed to know.  
" Not yet, Why?" I said.  
"Hum." She ate more crackers.  
We sat there in silence. Her not knowing what she should divulge, and me pretending not to be that interested.  
Whatever was happening, I wasn't all that ready to hear just yet, especially anything about Joe.  
"Connie, I really appreciate what you did for me today. That was really something I will never forget."  
She was down for some girl talk, I know she was. She was eating another cracker, scooping up more cheese and looking around. Deciding what to say.  
"So, uh Stephanie. What is going on here? We are eating crackers on Rangers bed, and you seem completely at ease with it. You knew what his maids name was, first name even! You knew where his underwear drawer was. You even have a key to his apartment. So Give. You owe me, I wanna know."  
Just then, Ranger walked in the room. Neither of us had heard him come in. He leaned on the door jam and raised his eyebrows, and crossed his arms across his chest.  
"What are you two doing? Are those crackers on my bed?"  
We both stopped chewing and stared. My heart was racing. I was relieved I didn't have to say anything.  
"Um. Yeah, Stephanie." Connie said, standing up. "I'll talk to you later, Ok? I gotta go home."  
she grabbed her bag, and walked fast out of the apartment.  
"Good seeing you Ranger". She left, closing the door behind her.  
I got up and took the crackers in the kitchen. That was close. I almost had to spill about our. Our what? I had no idea. And I had no idea what he had heard.  
He walked up to me in the kitchen. "You and Connie were having a "Girl" conversation on my bed. That has not happened since I lived at home."  
He grabbed the cheese that I had just put back in the kitchen and the crackers, and took it back into the bedroom and set it on the computer desk. He sat in the chair, eating some apples and cheese. He had a quizzical look on his face.  
"You didn't look in the secret compartment, did you?"  
He crunched another piece of apple.  
"There is no secret compartment. We looked."  
He smiled. "There is.. You just didn't find it."  
I sat there and stared at him for a moment.  
"No. No there isn't."  
"Wanna Bet?"  
He was having fun at my expense. He knew I was curious.  
"What are we betting?" I was thinking money. He wasn't.  
"If I am not lying, you have to stay with me tonight. I get to do whatever I want to you, and you can't object. No matter how over the top kinky that it might be."  
My mouth dropped.  
"And If I am right?" And the likelihood of that, would be nadda.  
"If there is no secret drawer then," he paused and put his legs up on the table, and smiled.  
"Then. I think I would ask you to marry me."  
He kept eating the apple slice. Then he took a piece of cheese and put it in his mouth, waiting for me to call his bluff. I just sat there, trying to read his mind, and of course, having no luck whatsoever.  
I kept thinking, this is a trick. He wants me to bet him. He would win the bet, and I would have to do all the kinky stuff, And he would know I was marriage hungry. Was I? I don't know, but he would THINK I was.  
My eyes got really small and I looked at him suspiciously.  
"What? You think that I am marriage hungry. if I BET you, then you would get your way with me, and you would have your answer, that I was marriage hungry. Then, you would get scared off. Even though I don't even know If I am marriage hungry."  
"Its your call, Stephanie. You decide."  
I wonder how kinky he could get. It couldn't be all that bad, I was again, a mouse in a trap.  
"No. I am not falling for that one. You are not going do your wizard thing and make me feel like I am a marriage hound. No. No Bet, no deal."  
"Suit yourself." He said. Walking into the kitchen. He poured both of us a glass of wine. He knew he had me. He knew this was eating me up inside. I looked at the drawers again. Debating. He looked over at me.  
"I know you want to bet me, Stephanie. I can see it in your eyes. You think about it. I've got get back down stairs. If you're not ready to do this, I have to get out on the floor."  
"I guess you better just get back to work."  
"Ok." He moved up next to me. Pulled me close to him, and looked into my eyes. "I know it's killing you. This is kind fun." He smiled, and wrapped his arms around me. Ranger picked me up a little bit so we were face to face, and kissed me. Then Put me down, grabbed an apple from the kitchen, and took a sip of his wine.  
"You should come down stairs with me. Maybe we could go look at the Glaskil building tonight."


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter 11  
I love working with Ranger. Designing security systems would be a challenge. I had somehow managed to squeeze myself out of another tight spot, but I didn't know how long that kind of luck would hold out. I grabbed an apple and we rode the elevator down to three. Before the doors opened, Ranger pulled me to him,wrapped his arms around my waist and slid his hands under my shirt.  
"Let me know when you are ready to make that bet." He said as his lips brushed mine. My heart was pounding. All I could think about was where his hands were. He let go of me and smiled as he walked out on to the floor of Rangeman. Ranger was in control. Play was over. Everyone now motivated to get the night into gear.  
I pretended it wasn't a big deal, but it loomed in my subconscious like a little scary morsel of information. No way would Ranger ask me to marry him, so there had to be a secret compartment. Was Connie right? Was there kinky stuff in that drawer? What would that be exactly? Being Ranger, What would he think is actually kinky? It was killing me.  
I have worked on the third floor countless times. Usually when night-time came, I went home. For now, this was my home. I walked over to the cubicle I was most familiar with. When I had worked for Rangeman; Ranger would give me menial tasks when I needed extra money. When I was on the payroll he did a pretty good job of not getting too close to me. I was an employee. He had will power that I would never have.  
Rangeman took the entire third floor of the building. The walls were steel-blue and the carpet was gray and industrial. Office cubicles were on the right and the rest of the floor dedicated to monitoring equipment. Long desks lined the windows, large computer monitors hung in unison, four up and ten across. There were five employees watching these monitors and talking to guards and writing up reports. The monitors would change every few moments to other locations. The left side of the room was another section of computers with the same set up as the first. In the middle of the room the floor supervisor watched the screens and worked on his iPad. Ranger stood next to him,earpiece in, talking to one of the patrols.  
I sat down at the desk. I was curious about what the FBI wanted from me, and I really wanted to know if they were the ones who shot at me in Scottsdale. Not that I thought they would give that kind of information away, but I was going to ask. Now that my life wasn't in extreme danger, I wanted to set up a meeting with them. I checked my bandage on my leg. The wound still hurt, and the pain medication I had taken was wearing off. I went to the break room and got a half turkey club and some coffee and went back to the cubicle. Last time I was in dire need of a paycheck, I ran searches, background checks, and did basic data entry for Ranger and the rest of the company for projects they were working on. You had to keep on top of it, or it would pile up. Whoever took over for me was doing a terrible job. The inbox on the desk was overflowing with paperwork that needed completing. I turned on the computer and logged into Rangeman. I started working on the searches that were the oldest. I looked over at Ranger. It looked to me like he had his hands full. No way would we be going to see that building tonight. He was immersed in wizardry.  
Ten employees were working tonight. During the day, the office was in full operation, the night was all about monitoring, answering false alarms or sending people out to locations to check on problems. I was working on the fifth search when Ranger came over to the cubicle.  
"That's not your job." he stood next to me, and picked up one of the files and opened it.  
"You were busy doing your wizard thing. Plus, I am on my fifth one."  
His eyes cut to the growing pile of unfinished work that was on the desk, and he dropped the file back on the stack.  
"I'll be right back."  
I continued with the search, but the office had turned from quiet movement, to commotion. I looked over the partition and saw that there were at least a dozen people talking to Ranger. They stood in a semi-circle and I saw the floor manager scratch his head and go through his iPad looking for something. He did not look happy. Either did Ranger. He looked over at me, walked into his office, and picked up the phone. Moments later, he walked back to the cubicle.  
"I need to go and check on one of my employees. Come with me. Maybe we will get to see the building tonight after-all."  
We took the stairs, and motored out of the lot before he spoke again.  
"No one has seen Edward Montoya for a week. No one even bothered to find out why he hadn't shown up for work. I leave, and see what happens?"  
His phone buzzed.. He looked at the display, and put it down. It buzzed again. He looked at it, and put it down. It buzzed a third time, and he turned it off.  
Ranger was quiet. A concerned look was on his face. Rangeman was personal to him, and the men who worked there were family. I had found out just how close the team was when Ramon confronted me at the Dojo. I wondered silently about the messages that kept coming up on his phone. This was not the time or place for me to ask questions, so I kept my trap shut, but my mind was moving towards the conversation about the "other women".  
"I hired this kid over a year ago." Ranger said. His eyes focused on the road as he spoke. We were moving away from Trenton and heading towards Newark. "He is smart and he is good with computers, but he's young. I gave him the research desk, like we do all new hires."  
"How come no one noticed he wasn't at work?"  
"When you log into your computer, it is like a punch card. It monitors the employee's time by the code you enter. I plan on having a conversation with the computer tech to find out just how his absence went unnoticed for this long. Usually an alert will come up telling the floor manager if someone doesn't show up for their shift. Somehow the alert didn't come up. There's a lot I need to talk to the techs about. As the company grows, so do the problems."  
Edward Montoya lived in one of the nicer apartment building in Newark. We parked near a street light, and peered out at the four-story brick building in front of us. The street was well-lit; it was a large square building with concrete steps, and a security code box at the door.  
"He is on the fourth floor." Ranger said as we walked across the street towards it.  
I looked over at his Porsche. This wasn't exactly a good neighborhood to leave a tempting piece of candy unattended.  
"What about the car? Will it be here when we get back?"  
Cars had a tendency to disappear when I was around. I didn't think he needed to take any unnecessary risks. I had good luck since being back, why push it?  
"No one around here would dream of stealing that car." He said.  
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"  
"Because, this is my neighborhood. They know better."  
There were concrete steps that led to a wrought iron gated entry with a security keypad. Names were written on small plastic plates next to buttons with apartment numbers.  
"Maybe he just found a better job?" You ever think of that? "  
"Edward Montoya is my hire, out of my neighborhood. He had wanted to work for Rangeman since he was sixteen and we started the company. I wouldn't hire him until he cleaned up his act, and finished school. He wouldn't just find another job."  
"So, you feel responsible for him?"  
"Something like that."  
I watched as Ranger keyed a code on the keypad.  
"You know the security code?"  
"Babe, there isn't a lot I don't know."  
I rolled my eyes.  
There were stairs to the right of the door. I followed Ranger up. He got to the fourth floor. Ranger stopped and looked down at me.  
I was behind him, but still one flight below. He raised his eyebrows.  
"What?! I said, panting. "My leg hurts still. Geez . Give me a break."  
My leg wasn't hurting all that bad, I needed to get back to running in the mornings to save face.  
There was a cement walkway in front of each apartment. A railing looked out over a small pathway with partially green, partially dead grass that separated one side of the complex from the other. It was late. Kids were in bed. Dishes washed, and televisions were on as people caught up with their favorite shows and nightly news.  
Edward Montoya's apartment was a corner unit. Apartment 4a was next to the stairwell. His door was painted light blue and matched the rest of the doors in the apartment building. There was a light on, and from where I was standing, I had a good view of his living room from a slit in the white curtains. Ranger knocked on the door. I saw a part of a running shoe. It was attached to a leg. The leg didn't move when he knocked. I didn't think this was a good sign.  
"Ranger" I said, and motioned to the window.  
He walked over and looked through the curtains, then broke down the door. Edward must have been dead for at least a couple of days. He didn't look all that good, and he smelled even worse. I noticed why we couldn't smell him until we opened the door. Someone had put towels around the door frame and turned on his window air unit to keep him from heating up and decomposing quicker. It was freezing in the room. Dried white foam still clung around his mouth. I think he might have ingested something bad. I covered my mouth and my nose and walked out of the apartment fast, trying to breathe something besides death.  
Ranger backed out after me and threw the phone in my direction. I called 911, and waited. It took the police and ME an hour to get there. Ranger used the time to call in to Rangeman, and then walked away to call Edward's family. They arrived soon after the police did. Ranger quietly spoke in Spanish to Edward's distraught mother. The rest of his family stood next to her looking shell-shocked, staring at the open door. Neighbors in the apartment complex stood around watching the events unfold. No one likes death cooties. It looked to me like it could have been a suicide, except for the air-conditioning and the towels. That was suspicious. Edward was young. It didn't seem fair at all that his life might have been taken from him before it really began.  
A detective for the Newark Police Department had taken our statements, and told us he would be in touch. I watched as the body bag descended down the stairs to the Medical Examiner's car. Edward's family followed behind in grieving silence. The apartment was still open except for crime scene tape that placed over the front door. Police were not ruling out foul play, but the general feel for the scene was suicide. It isn't all that uncommon for someone to stuff towels around doors and turn on the air to keep from being found; but it didn't sit well with me. Ranger said Edwards's mother was worried about him. He has been depressed, and stopped taking his medication a few weeks ago. He quit calling home soon after that. She said that he would slip into depression every once in a while, but he always snapped out of it. He had never been suicidal.  
"Come on. Let's go." Ranger said, and he took my hand. It was after 1am. We walked back down the stairs, but instead of heading to the car, Ranger walked the opposite direction. There was a small park with a basketball court surrounded by grass and three cement picnic benches. The benches covered in gang symbols and half-hearted carvings. He sat on the table and looked up at the apartment building. This wasn't a quiet neighborhood. I could hear sirens in the distance, dogs barking and occasionally gunshots. Somewhere off in the distance a helicopter with a searchlight was looking for someone.  
"I grew up coming to this park." Ranger said. "This was my park. I was a little troublemaker hoodlum here. When I looked at Edward's job app, and saw where he lived, I took a closer look. His school records were pretty clean, and he was at the top ten percent of his class. He was interested in law enforcement, wanted to join the Army but couldn't because he had been treated for depression. He had a good family life, and just looked like a great hire. I wanted to give him a chance to prove himself. I wasn't aware he was having problems."  
I could have said the classic lines like, "you can't fix everyone" or,"you can't control what happens to everyone" or, "it's not your fault." I played them in my head, and none of those lines really seemed like something I needed to say. Instead, I just took his hand, and sat down next to him. What can you say to someone? "I'm sorry for your loss?" I hated that line. It never seemed appropriate, and it never fit. I felt it was like trying to put a square peg into a huge gaping round hole.  
Ranger looked at me for a long moment. Watching me, deep in thought. His eyes held mine.  
"There was no secret compartment, Stephanie."  
My heart skipped a beat, I was lost. What was he saying to me?  
Ranger stood up, and brushed himself off.  
"Come on. He said. Let's go. We should get back."  
I didn't follow him. I couldn't move. Ranger was already across the park when he noticed. He stopped and waited for me. In my mind, I had a lot of moments, just like most girls' do. Fantasies of a perfect person or a perfect place in time where your life would change. Most girls had visions of white stallions and young princes who whisked them away because they could no longer live without them. A love that was so great and so strong, that nothing could stop it from happening. I have moments where I wanted to be that girl. Wanting to be so loved and so needed, that the love story lived. Real life doesn't move to that beat. Girls are born with the need to couple with another. It was human. It was nature. It was our bodies telling us to find a mate and reproduce. All mammals had that continuing urge. We as people don't think it applies to us, but in the end, it always does. Love stories are few and far between. But sometimes, I wonder if there could be a reality to it all. I also knew that Ranger would be the very last one to ever be part of that type of scenario. It wasn't fair if he was playing with my emotions, and making me want something he could not give. It was cruel, and suddenly, I was angry he had said it.  
Ranger continued to look at me. Finally, he walked over and sat back down, looking at his hands. We just sat there in silence. Finally I glanced over at him.  
"You need to stop playing games with me. It hurts."  
He took a deep breath. "I am not playing games, Stephanie. If you had called my bluff, I would have proposed to you. Are you coming or not? This place is not safe after the police go home."  
It was hard to catch my breath, but I didn't have time to absorb what was just put on the table. Ranger grabbed my hand and was pulling me along, walking fast, holding it tight. There were some kids that were coming towards us, when they saw Ranger, they got out-of-the-way but said something in Spanish.  
"Que' valoras tu vida?"  
Ranger mumbled something back, and we left.  
I was running to keep up with him. "What did you say to them?"  
"They asked me if I valued my life, I told them, not as much as they valued their balls. Let's get out of here before they change their minds."  
We drove back to RangeMan. Both of us silent. I didn't know what to say. On the 3rd floor, Ranger called a meeting, informing every one of what happened. He was angry with the entire office. They had all failed to pay attention to what was going on around them. He called the entire Rangeman workforce. Woke most of them up. Everyone was working overtime to get the reports finished. If they failed to come in, they would be fired. We each took a pile, including me, and worked on them until the sun came up. I was exhausted. Since we had gotten back from New Mexico, I hadn't had a chance to get anything done I needed to do, especially if I wanted to live outside Rangeman's gravitational force. I was still in limbo. I fell asleep in Rangers bed, waking up when another day was ending. Ranger was there with me. He must have come in sometime during the day. He had passed out with his clothes still on. He never slept with clothes on. He was out cold.  
I took a shower and got dressed. I didn't want to think too much about what Ranger had said. I wasn't sure how I felt about it for one thing. The problem was, I think I was falling for it. Hook, line, and sinker. I could feel myself get all mushy and have those terrible "love" feelings that always screwed up your judgment and made you do stupid things, like take nude pictures of yourself. Things like that never are a good idea. Instead of thinking to hard about being a big dummy about love and stupid stuff, I decided to think about something else. For one thing, I didn't know if I should wear my Kevlar vest anymore. Did I want to just walk out on the street without protection? What if some yo-yo didn't get the memo that Stephanie Plum was not a target anymore? Then there's the other yahoos that may want to shoot me just because of the stupid website. I decided to wear the vest,the gun and bring my pepper spray. Connie had already told me that everything was A-OK and the Tool guy was after someone else the entire time,and not me. That was a relief. Everyone was happy in Mafialand, and according to her Uncle, they would have a great story to tell about women and their pocketbooks. It would keep them laughing for a long time.  
One thing I was happy about was that my Jeep had arrived today. Thank you Ramon! I took a look inside. I was almost positive that under the front seat would be some sort of weapon. It was washed, and a new alarm system with paperwork was sitting on the front seat. I knew from experience that my Jeep was also now officially programmed into Rangeman and would have a tracking device armed and ready to go. I hoped I could keep this one from blowing up. I would be really disappointed if my jeep exploded. I motored over to my parents. My mother was at the door when I drove up. She was alone.  
"Where's Grandma?" I said following her into the kitchen. Something was different.  
"She lives at the new retirement community Shady Acres. I told you about all of this six months ago, Stephanie. You never listen to me. She only comes over for dinner on Sunday."  
I said hi to my Dad. He was sitting in his recliner, reading the paper while the television blared away in the background.  
"Without your grandmother here, it gets too quiet". She said. "I think I need a hobby".  
"You could tell her you miss her."  
"No she can't", My dad piped in, yelling across the house."This is the first quiet six months I have had since your mother got pregnant with Valerie".  
My mom looked dismayed.  
"What's for dinner?" I said looking for something,anything that looked like it resembled food cooking.  
"I didn't make dinner. We never have a big dinner anymore."  
I knew something was different! No dinner! No oven going, no comforts of home warmth from the stove, no good smells. This was terrible. A travesty. I was shocked. My eyebrows raised in disbelief. My eyes got big. I was counting on dinner. I had looked forward to it. I dreamed about the normalcy that was home. There had to be some law she was breaking in the mother book. I was hungry.  
"No dinner?"  
"Well, I thought we could go buy something. I didn't make dessert either. Without Grandma here, we don't need that much food."  
I wouldn't panic. No dessert? Could this be an alternate Universe?  
Just then I heard car doors shut and a lot of arguing and yelling. Grandma Mazur came barreling into the house, followed by no other than Grandma Bella. They had on matching light pink track suits with the words, "juicy" written out on the butt. Both had pink hair to match. They looked like poodles. They were arguing over who had the smallest behind, and shouting about playing by the rules. When they got in the door, Grandma Mazur saw me.  
"Stephanie! Your mother told me you were coming over! I have so much to tell you! Ellen, where is the food? Are you not making dinner anymore?"  
It was like letting in a whirlwind. The house was back to normal. The Universe had righted itself in my mind. Grandma would fix it.  
My mom grabbed her shoulder bag. "Stephanie. Come on, we have to go buy food."  
When we got outside, she said "I called your sister too. I wanted a full house tonight.I had to pretend I didn't, for your father."  
My mom actually missed the craziness. I did too. Once it is part of your life, it's just not the same without it.  
We drove to Sal's. On the sly, my mother ordered enough food to feed three families. We walked out with boxes and bags. She said she was on the phone to Sal's the moment I called.  
"Your father," She said. "he won't admit it, but life is just not as exciting without the house in chaos."  
We got back to the house. Albert's car was parked at the curb. We carried everything inside. Val, and her growing family had arrived. My sister came up and gave me a big hug.  
"You have to tell me all about Scottsdale, Stephanie. I heard that it was so hot there this summer, paint started to melt off cars!"  
Before I could tell her that I hadn't seen anything that dramatic, she whispered in my ear that she had a surprise. She was pregnant again. I looked over at her Two month old baby boy and her two-year old daughter and wondered how many kids she would pop out before they were through with the herd. I hugged her. Me, I didn't know if I even wanted one, much less a dozen. Maybe I could just borrow one of hers once in a while when I felt maternal. I think she would have enough for the both of us.  
Grandma and Bella were at the computer looking up websites of naked men. My father had retreated into the bathroom for some privacy. Mary Alice was cantering around the kitchen table, practicing at being a horse, and Angie was coloring pictures of princesses. The whole house was pure nuts. I found out Albert had joined a law firm. He had advertisements on television. He may have been an ambulance chaser, but he was great at selling himself. His business was growing, and so was the family.  
I had successfully stayed out of Grandma Bella's tractor beam for an entire hour. Grandma Mazur and Bella were strangely fascinated by the internet. Then, it happened. I was caught in her radar. She saw me. I started to panic. Grandma Bella scared the crap out of me. She had visions, and there was a twenty percent chance that what she saw would come true. When it came to me, the visions were scary and about death and destruction. What was worse, some of those visions came a little too close to coming true. This time, she smiled and came over to me.  
"Stephanie Plum. How are you?"  
She never talked this way to me. I held my breath, waiting for her wrath to come boiling out.  
"I am so happy you finally let my Joey go. He is much happier now that he and Trisha are engaged. The curse is over, I can feel it. My visions are happy now". Then she picked up a wine glass and downed it.  
I was eating a piece of roast chicken; I inhaled when she said that. The chicken lodged in my throat and I started to choke. Albert smacked me on the back and chicken flew though the air, landing on the lampshade. I picked it up quickly so no one would see. Was it true? Engaged? Joe was engaged? I really didn't feel all that well anymore. I think I was starting to get a headache. It took me a good twenty minutes to gather myself back together and walk into the living room again. If I was a smoker, I would have taken that time to go sit on the back stoop and light up. Engaged. Someone named Trisha? Engaged? Holy crap. That was it. Joe was officially taken. No more Joe. No more flirting. No more making up. Shit.  
Both Grandma and Bella had been drinking wine. Grandma was already on her third glass. My mother was hitting the sauce and actively trying to stay in the kitchen, probably thinking, "Why did I want this back in my life?" My father grumbled as another of his favorite T.V. programs was interrupted, ruined by family. Grandma was over next to the computer, still looking at websites and gazing at men's behinds.  
"Stephanie! Come over here, quick!" She said excitedly.  
I managed to take a very deep breath, gather myself back together to walk over to the computer, only to be greeted with my very own impending doom. The website I thought had been taken down was still there. More videos than before broadcast out at us from the monitor, this time not of me. They were of other people pretending to be me. I scanned down the page and found a hotline number, a chat-line, downloads, t-shirts, autograph pictures, and a book that was coming out. I had a fricken' fan club! This was going beyond rational. I had to curb Vinnie and Joyce. So I decided to hire Albert. I walked him over to the computer, and showed him the website. I told him what had been happening. He was very interested. Joyce was responsible, and she was rich, too. It could turn into a big case, I told him. This would be my chance to get back at Joyce without even hitting her. He told me he would look into it, but it wasn't really his field of expertise. I encouraged him enough to let me keep him on retainer.  
Dinner was happily normal for our family. Mary Alice still thinks she is a horse, She was learning how to jump hurdles, and she wanted her room painted like a horse stall. She did decide people food would be ok to eat. Her best friend Debbie had told her so.  
"I am going to be in the talent show at school." She said proudly. " We will be jumping hurdles and galloping around. I even made my own saddle."  
My sister tried to hide a grimace. But I saw it before she wiped it away with a proud smile. I don't think Valerie understood Mary Alice all that much. I thought she was great. Maybe I should learn how to canter.  
Grandma and Bella told everyone how they had gotten a group of seniors together and on Friday night they all skinny dip at the pool. I noticed Grandma was on her fourth glass of wine. I watched my mother as she took the bottle off the table and hide it under her chair. I still was having a hard time understanding how Grandma and Bella ever decided to live together. One thing for sure, they would need a ride home.  
It was after 10pm by the time we had the dishes done and everything cleaned up. My sister said she needed to get home. She had eaten too much pineapple upside down cake and it was late for the kids to still be awake on a school night. I hugged both her and Albert, congratulating them again, and walked them out. As they drove off, I heard a thunk. I ducked, knowing it could be a bullet. Then I heard cackling laughter. Bella and Grandma were snookered. They were outside throwing rocks at cars and hiding. What! Oh no. This was not good. The phone started ringing in the house. I could hear my mother talking to one of our neighbors. I heard sirens in the distance. Someone probably called the police.  
I knew it was only a matter of time before Grandma would need bailing out if she stayed at Shady Acres. I piled both her and Bella in the Jeep. I just needed to figure out where to take them. I didn't want to deliver them to the retirement apartments when they were out of control. Security would call the police on them for sure.  
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Joe. It was instinct. I was surprised not only that I remembered the number, but that it was such an involuntary move. I could already hear sirens getting closer. Not good.  
As the phone rang, my nerves jumped. This was going to be awkward. I had not spoken to him in over a year. He was engaged according to Bella. There was a recording for his cell phone. I tried his pager; it was now a phone number for someone named Stanley. I dialed his home number. The phone picked up after two rings. A woman answered. I was stunned. I took a deep breath, I asked for Joe.  
"No, I am sorry. He is at work." She said sweetly. "Is there something I can help you with?"  
"Do you know his cell phone number or pager or something? His old numbers don't work anymore."  
"I am sorry, that's private information." She continued "Unless you could tell me what this was about, I am not about to tell you anything."  
"Boy, you're a pistol."  
"What!?" she screamed at me through the phone .  
Oops, I had said that out loud?  
Grandma Bella was in the front seat, buckled in. She had found a radio station she wanted. Rap music boomed through the speakers making it hard to hear the person on the phone.  
I yelled another approach, trying to turn the radio down. Bella slapped my hand.  
"Can you at least call him, and tell him to call this number back?" I said trying to get a handle on Grandma Bella. She was trying to put the eye on me now, and Grandma Mazur was trying to distract her. "It's sort of an emergency."  
"An Emergency?" She sounded reproachful. "What is this about?"  
"Joe's Grandma Bella is kind of drunk, and needs a ride." Geez. I thought. I couldn't believe this was happening.  
"I am sure your mistaken," she said doughty. "His grandmother is a lovely lady, and she doesn't drink."  
Grandma Mazur took a sip from something in her pocket. I turned and grabbed it.  
I started the Jeep, and took off.  
"Just hurry and call him. I said as we turned the corner. I don't know where to take them! "  
"Who is this! "  
I hung up. She was impossible. Joe must have his hands full with that one.  
I couldn't drive them home like this. I couldn't leave them with my parents. I also couldn't drive them around much longer, either. Bella was hanging out the window, yelling at people. I needed to get them off the street. There was no way I was taking them to Rangeman, and my sister didn't need this right now. So I took a deep breath and drove over to Joe's. I made them promise to stay in the car, and I ran up to the porch. The front door flew open. I stopped short. I couldn't catch my breath. I couldn't breathe. The woman standing defiantly in front of me was very pretty. She was in Joe's house, and Bob was there. He saw me, and ran, knocking me to the ground. Getting slobber everywhere.  
"Hi Bob!" I said, trying to get back up.  
I pointed to the Jeep, as I struggled with the huge orange dog beast that was licking me to death.  
"Please.. Call.. Joe!" I yelled. "This is turning into a nightmare! They've already caused property damage at my parent's house."  
I was trying to keep Bob from slobbering all over my face and he was winning. I tried to continue talking as I pushed him away, he pushed me down again.  
"Listen!" I said struggling to get up. "I can't bring them to Shady Acres. I'm afraid they would get kicked out." I screamed. "For God's sake! They will throw up in my Jeep. I'll never get it clean! And get Bob off of me!"  
"Shit.. Ok." She said and dialed a number, spoke softly into the phone, and hung up. She shrugged her shoulders and said "Okay. He's coming home." She pulled Bob off me.  
"I'm Trisha." She said as she helped me up.  
"Stephanie." I said shaking her hand trying to catch my breath as I pulled grass, dirt and slobber out of my hair.  
She looked at me again and said, "Of course you are."  
I glared at her. "What is that suppose to mean?"  
"Nothing." She did some eyeball rolling thing.  
The Grandmas were on the ground now, lying there looking at the stars, and Trisha and I were sitting on the porch. She had dark brown hair pulled up into a ponytail. She was tall and thin and very pretty, in a girl next door kind of way.  
"I knew I would have to meet you eventually." She said "I just didn't realize that it would be like this".  
I still didn't know what to say, I felt like she was in my space. Joe's house was personal. Agh. But it wasn't anymore. I struggled with it as we sat there.  
"I heard stories about you." She said. "They seemed impossible. Looking at just what happened tonight, I think I changed my mind. Did you really blow up Stiva's Funeral home, and destroy that many cars?" She said laughing.  
"Pretty much." I said. "But it has petered off. Pretty soon, maybe, it won't happen at all".  
She laughed "Yeah-good luck with that one. Every time we have football Sunday here, all the boys talk about you. It is annoying. But now that I met you, I can see that it probably caused a lot of problems."  
"Yeah." I said as Joe pulled up in his truck. "Like being called a walking disaster."  
Joe walked over. He looked good. Frighteningly good. I thought back to when I lived here with him, woke up next to him, had good wild and crazy sex with him. I had to push the thoughts away. He checked on his Grandmother, and eyeing us suspiciously he walked up. I could actually see panic on his face. It was kind of insulting. He looked at Bella on the grass again, and Trisha and I having one on one time.  
"Please tell me Stephanie is not recruiting you into the world of chaos. I would just have to shoot myself in the foot."  
She barked out a laugh, I stared at her in disbelief. What was so wrong with my life?  
"No way." She said getting up. "I try to keep distance from walking disasters."  
"You heard that one, huh?" He looked at me and smiled. "Stephanie, this is Trisha. She is a criminologist from Newark."  
I shook her hand, nice to be introduced. "We met." I said, still shaking her hand.  
"Trisha, can you give me about ten minutes? I need to talk to Stephanie." Joe said.  
"Bob needs to go for a walk anyway. Take your time." She kissed him, looked at me with a warning glare and left.  
When she was out of ear shot, he started in on me. He didn't even bother with "welcome back" or "nice to see you."  
He stared at me.  
"What are you doing here?"  
I looked over at Grandma Bella and Grandma Mazur, suddenly feeling stupid that I brought them here.  
"No." He said. "What are you doing in Trenton? And more specifically, out on the street at night? Are you looking to get killed?"  
He touched the Kevlar vest. "I suppose you are carrying concealed now too, right?"  
I glared at him.  
"The hits have all been called off. I'm in the clear. Things weren't working out in Scottsdale. I came back."  
"If the hits were called off, Stephanie, why the vest?" His arms crossed in front of him.  
"Just in case." I said defiantly.  
Joe looked down. Clearly trying to be alright with it.  
"Ok. What the hell happened? Why is my Grandmother and your Grandmother drunk and passed out in my front yard? And how did it even come about that they decided to live together? My mother is freaking out over this. The whole family is in a state because she is not only dating, but also going to strip clubs." Joe said, trying to get a grip on the situation. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down at the ground.  
"Trisha doesn't really know about my family history. I was sort of trying to keep it from her. She thinks my family is great."  
"I heard you were engaged." I said.  
He looked up. "Yeah, it sorta just happened."  
So it was true. It hurt my heart to hear him say that he had moved on. But I tried not to think about it .  
"You shouldn't start your life with lies, Joe. Tell her the truth, or you will regret it."  
"What? Tell her my Grandmother is a nutcase? That my brothers and I were complete assholes, deviants and delinquents and that they all run around on their wives? Great advice, Stephanie."  
Joe paused for a moment, staring at the ground.  
"Shit. I suppose it really wouldn't matter."  
"Do you love her?"  
He looked at me for a moment. "Yeah. I do."  
"Then you should be honest with her."  
I hugged myself. I was afraid I would lose my dinner if I sat here any longer.  
He looked at me for a long moment, and smiled.  
"You look good, Stephanie. Arizona was good to you. Stand up."  
Standing up still was a little painful. My leg was not fully back, and I limped a little. I tried not to let it look as bad as it felt. For some reason I was trying to be tough. I didn't think it was working.  
"I can tell your leg hurts, stop trying to hide it." He said. "I can't believe you got shot again. You are going to get killed one of these days, Cupcake."  
He was still staring at me. Wheels were turning in his brain. His smile faltered.  
"You're seeing Ranger." His eyes narrowed. "He didn't just go get you. You're sleeping with him. Son of a bitch!"  
It was none of his business who I slept with. Why did he care who I was seeing?  
"Fuck, are you kidding me?" He continued. Clearly agitated. "Why can't you be seeing someone safe, like a serial killer?"  
"Well.." I said, getting a little pissed off that he was acting this way. "Look at you! You went off and got engaged!" I blurted out. "And, she's beautiful!"  
We both just stared at each other.  
One thing I did know. Someone else had his heart now.. I could see it in his eyes.  
"Okay." He said. Realizing that no one was going to win this battle. We both had made our own beds, and neither of them together.  
"What are we going to do about them?" He said, looking over at the Grandmas. "We need to get them at least a little sober."  
We both picked them up and got them into the house. Letting them lean on us as they both talked about men and other things that I did not care to know about. We made them drink some coffee and water.  
Ranger called as we had them on their second cup of coffee. I knew that he wasn't the most trusting soul, especially when it came to Joe. Not only did he have a tracker on my car but probably in my bag as well. He also had a strange sixth sense when it came to me.  
"Yo," he said. "Your car is at Morelli's, and police were called to your parents address. You okay?"  
"Yeah, I am. Thanks. Can you come over? I need help getting Grandma home."  
I wanted Ranger to trust me; I thought this was the only way to do it. He drove up to Morelli's just as Trisha walked Bob back up the drive.  
When Trisha saw Ranger, she flushed. When Ranger saw Trisha, he smiled and walked over to us.  
"Trisha." He said. "This is interesting."  
Joe looked at Ranger.  
"What am I missing here?"  
"Not a thing. " But he laughed when he said it.  
"Trisha went to school with my little sister, Carmen."  
Ranger was still watching her. He looked completely surprised.  
What the heck was going on? Joe and I were both lost to what was happening in front of us.  
Trisha's cheeks were red. She turned to Joe.  
"Carlos and I know each other from the neighborhood. Don't we?" Trisha said smugly.  
Ranger's phone went off and he answered a page and said, "Yep". As an afterthought.  
"Listen." He looked at me. "Where do you want to take Grandma Mazur? The coast is clear at your parents. Do you want to take her there?"  
I was trying hard not to notice the tension in the air. Trisha stood silently next to Joe with her arms crossed. She was apparently in a situation that she was uncomfortable with, Joe was confused, and I was too. We were all at a standstill. Ranger was pretending like whatever was happening had nothing to do with him. We were all in some kind of holding pattern. No one willing to speak.  
I fumbled for an answer to his question.  
"Um, Yeah." I said. "You'll have to help me get her in the Jeep."  
"I'll put her in the Porsche, but she better not pinch me. You drive it, and I will follow in your Jeep.  
He cut his eyes to Trisha.  
"Good to see you, Trisha. You look good." He said smiling.  
He turned to Joe. "You need any help with Bella?"  
"No." He said. "We're good."  
I could tell Joe was pissed. He was eyeing Ranger with contempt.  
I think there was a good chance he was figuring out that not only was I seeing Ranger, but that his current girlfriend had history with him also.  
"Congratulations, Joe." Ranger said. "Trish is a really good woman. I know you guys will be happy."  
He used the million dollar smile, and was texting, not paying attention to what fire was still being thrown at him as he walked over and got into the Jeep. I got behind the wheel of the Porsche and drove away with Ranger following.  
I looked in the rear view mirror as we drove away. Joe had Bella in the car and Trisha was helping him. I thought they looked good together. I was actually hoping I didn't fuck it up.  
We got to my mother's house, and dropped off Grandma. My mother had told the police that they had no idea who was throwing rocks. Must have been kids.  
Ranger was waiting for me by the car. Grandma was well on her way through the second round of 100 Bottles of Beer before the door closed and I was free to go. I told Ranger about the website and how I decided to hire Albert to look into it for me.  
"You know his slogan on T.V. is "Don't mess with the Kloughn." You think he can help you?"  
"It's possible." I said. (Well, maybe.)  
"It's your call." He said, and I followed him over to the Porsche.  
He turned to me. "You just find out about Joe being engaged tonight?"  
I nodded, and looked down. He put his hand on my chin picking it back up to look at him. "You okay?"  
"Yeah. I'm okay." I said smiling. "So," I said. "Trisha?"  
He nodded, "She was one of the three. I Hadn't seen her in over a year. I had no idea she would hook up with Morelli. He is a good guy, good for her."  
Ranger put his hands in his pockets and looked out into the night. "We still haven't walked through the Gatskil Building." He said, "You up to checking it out tonight? We've put it off. I would like to do the walk through without employees, and this is a good time."  
I needed to get my mind off what had happened tonight. My grandmother was acting like a juvenile; Joe was engaged to Ranger's…Ranger's what? Booty Call? Wow.  
Ranger called and set everything up with the team and with the owners of the building. We drove over and parked next to one of Rangeman's SUV's. From a distance, we could see the building with a greater perspective. The parking lot had a security guard in a booth. Entrance and exits had drop down bars, stopping each car. The Gaskil building had 12 stories and an underground parking garage. It was set apart from other buildings with a large parking lot and grassy areas meant to be pleasing to the eye.  
We drove in, and met at the front security gate. They had a single security guard for the front entrance lane. He watched the entire parking lot and was responsible for walking the perimeter every hour. He said he was the only night guard. No vehicle security was assigned to the building. There was one main entrance in the front, one maintenance entrance on each side and a back entrance with a loading dock and back stairwell. The loading dock had a door that led into the main hallway and from there, access to the stairs and the rest of the building. The underground garage had two stairwell entrances and an elevator. There was a helipad on the roof with a stairwell entrance to the building.  
During the day, there were two guards at the front desk greeting people and just being there for key card mistakes, and general office security. All entrances had a key card passage. If clients came to the front, the security guards would buzz them into the lobby. The system in place had been installed over 10 years ago. Except for some minor issues, there were no problems with it. The building itself had been up for several awards for being "Green". Its entire roof and one side were covered with solar panels, not including the helipad. The building's lights all worked from these panels. The security system was on a different circuit. The placement of solar panels was part of a study the University was doing to see how effective they would be in a working environment. The study for the building was also missing from the break-ins, possibly making the rest of the theft a cover for what someone was really after, but no one knew if this was connected.  
Ramon and Hal were taking notes as we walked the floors of the building with the guard. The stairwells in the building could not be key carded because of fire safety issues. You had to be able the get downstairs if there was an emergency. But, you could not enter the stairwell from outside or downstairs in the lobby without one. The elevators did not have any card access. Once in the building, you could come and go as you pleased. It was open to the public, the law offices had clients. It had to be easily accessible to normal individuals. The Helipad on the roof was key card access only. The freight elevator and the service doors were also key card. All the security was in place for the tenants. The Law firms here dealt with high profile clients, and not only did the firms request the security, so did the clients themselves.  
I asked, "What if they electricity goes out in the building, or there is a computer glitch?"  
"If the electricity goes out," the guard said. "The key cards still work; they are on a separate system. It switches to battery."  
"What if that system does not go on?"  
"That has never happened, that I know of. If all fails, the system turns off and the building is open to whoever would like to play with it."  
"What about the alarms in the building?" Ranger asked.  
"There is normal fire alarms. They're checked monthly to make sure they're working; There are also alarms for carbon monoxide and other poisons. The windows all have alarms. Doors that could be tampered with have alarms, and we have the guards during the day. Each of the entrance guards walk the inside of the building twice. We also have two floors that are government offices. They have their own armed guards, but none of the break-ins were on those floors."  
"What do they do on those floors?" Hal asked.  
"It is suppose to be FEMA offices, but I can't be sure of what they do here. The guards for those floors are friendly, but they don't share what happens in their offices. I can only assume they are normal work places and have normal staff. I never see secret agents walking in or anything." He smiled at his own humor.  
"Look," he said,"there is not a lot going on here. We have law firms in the building, and government offices. Very little activity at night, and during the day it is all about getting someone's car keys, walking people out of the building who get fired, directing clients to the right floor,and helping when key cards don't work."  
"When key cards don't work, what do you do?" I asked.  
Just then, he stopped talking and asked us to wait. He listened to something. I realized he had an earpiece in his ear.  
"Someone just tripped the alarm on the third floor."  
I looked around, no Ramon.  
Ranger used his cell and called him.  
"While we were talking," Ranger said, "Ramon accessed twelve rooms, hit two safes,unlocked five secure passageways and went to the rooftop. He is on the roof now, and your alarm just tripped the wire on the third floor. Someone's been tampering with your security doors or the system is on a delay."  
Alarms suddenly went off in the entire building. It had given Ramon a full twenty minutes to walk the building and pretend to steal.  
Two security vehicles came into the parking lot ten minutes later. That kind of time frame would give whomever was in the building enough time to walk the floors,eat a snack, and steal whatever they came in to do before anyone even knew there was a problem.  
We went to the main foyer and checked the cameras. They were all working, but showed Ramon just getting to the fourth floor. Instead, he was standing next to us, watching himself pass through the camera's lens.  
"Well," Ranger said, "at least we know how they got in and out without getting caught."  
It was late when we finished up with the building. Rangeman would send out someone in the morning to get access to all the security camera data and figure out how to get the system working without a delay. It would be our job to create a safer security system or use the one they had more efficiently. It was after 4am. It had been a really long night. I was tired, and I could tell I wasn't alone with that feeling. Since we had been back, I had rarely seen the sun. I felt like I had turned into one of the walking dead and if I looked in the mirror I would be a pasty representation of myself. All of us had been worked to death lately. Tank went home to get some sleep, and we drove back to RangeMan.  
"Is it safe to say that you are sleeping at Rangeman? I don't know how much fun I will be, but I make a great pillow." He said, as we drove into the underground garage.  
Before I could even answer, Ranger got a weird ring tone, and he looked down at his phone.  
"Shit. Are you kidding me?!"  
He called upstairs to the third floor.  
"Are you serious?" He yelled in his phone. I had never heard Ranger lose his cool before. It was fascinating.  
"You're telling me that?" He listened for a few more seconds then hung up.  
He gave me an impatient glance and contemplated his thoughts.  
"There is a problem on the 7th floor. It appears I have company. I have never had company up there, but you. And now it seems like every one is traipsing around. I don't have a doubt that this person could break code and go into any place she wanted. I just underestimated her response from breaking things off with her.  
I shifted in my seat. I knew who he was talking about.  
"You were sleeping with Jeanne Ellen? She was one of the three?"  
He didn't even need to say anything. It was obvious.  
"What was your reason for breaking up with her?" Stupid question! I thought.  
I tried again. "I mean, what did you tell her?"  
"I told her it was none of her business."  
Eeee. I hated the, "None of your business line."He had used it on me a couple of times, and it immediately pissed me off when he had. And if it had that effect on me, imagine what it would do to cat woman? It was the worst.  
Ranger was clearly distraught. "All of the sudden I'm in hot water twice in one day."  
I tried to speak in a calm tone; it worked sometimes with Lula and with Joe.  
"Telling someone something is none of their business, when clearly it had been in the past, is not the right approach. Girls don't really appreciate that line, Ranger."  
"I'm figuring that out. I am a fast learner, but I have never had to deal with this before. Give me a fuckin' break already."  
I found it hard to believe Ranger never had to deal with this before. I sat there in silence. Three women. All seeing Ranger. One being Jeanne. Crap. She already despised me. I was suddenly afraid for my Jeep.  
Ranger was back on the phone. He listened for a moment, and then hung up.  
"What do you want to do?" I asked.  
He took a deep breath, and looked out the window at the elevator. "I don't want to sever ties with Jeanne. She has contacts. She is vital in your corner when you need her. This is turning out badly." We just sat there. I didn't know what he was thinking. I wondered if Ranger had played chess lately. I started shifting around in my seat. I am not great at confrontation, but it beats the hell out of walking on thin ice forever, harboring ill feelings, and sticking your head in the sand. As I had been doing lately. Damn. I should talk to her.  
"Fuck it, I am going up there." I said.  
"That's not a good idea." He said, shaking his head and laughing.  
"Well. I think it is."  
"No, it isn't."  
I was getting mad. I didn't like to be told no. If I went up there, maybe she would get the hint and leave. She had to understand that she was being dense. Why shouldn't Ranger want to eventually end his booty call sessions with her? What was her problem, anyway? This was not my call, and clearly not my business either. But I had started it, and I wasn't really one to just let it go. I had to keep going. I mean, right? Shit. Plus, there was a possibility that she would leave if I talked to her. She seemed reasonable. If Ranger has decided to be with me, shouldn't I stand up and do the "girl thing" and fight for him? I wasn't sure the jury was in on that one yet. But I was tired, and I really needed to go to sleep, and she was stopping me from curling up in his sheets. I wanted them. Now.  
"This isn't just going to go away." I said. "This is your call Ranger, your life. You started this, you need to have the balls to finish it." Yeah! I said to myself. Thinking I was making a good point.  
I looked at him, and realized I had said the wrong thing. I think I startled him. I held my breath.  
"The balls?!" He paused. I was trying to decide if we were now fighting. It was not where I was going with that statement. It was supposed to inspire him to let me go up and talk to her, woman to woman, not get a reaction like the one I just got.  
"Ok Stephanie. Let's go see Jeanne. Let's just see how you feel once she has left the building."  
He got out of the car fast. I was kind of afraid. He came over to my side, and pulled me out of the car, literally. Grabbed my hand and pulled me along after him. I was thinking I may have pissed him off.  
Ranger can really walk fast when he wants to. My leg was starting to hurt as I had to run to keep up with him.  
"Fuckin' wait. Shit!"  
He turned around, and almost screamed at me.  
"No, you wait. You are the one that wants to go up there, not me. Look Stephanie, This woman and I have had a sexual relationship for over twenty years. I don't know what I am doing anymore. This is all new territory for me. I just asked her to back up and give me some room. She asked why? I said it was none of her business. It IS none of her business. If I go up there, I make it her business. Then it becomes a real problem".  
I did some calculations in my head. Twenty years. He is the same age as I am, Thirty three. I stopped for a moment. "Wait, are you saying that she has been sleeping with you since you were 13 years old?"  
Ranger paused. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, Stephanie, that is what I am fucking saying."  
I knew Jeanne was older than we were. But I wasn't sure just how much older.  
"How old is she, Ranger?"  
He turned to me and stopped walking.  
"She is forty-nine Stephanie. Ok? FORTY GOD DAMN NINE!" Ranger was screaming now. He had clearly lost his noodle over this. This was huge to him. I had opened a can of worms I did not even realize existed.  
"Look," He yelled. "I can't have this conversation with you IN THE GODDAMNHALL! Fuck. This is Personal!" He screamed. He was almost shaking. I had never seen him freak out before. I wasn't sure what the hell to do.  
I looked at the elevator. I wanted to go up there and kick the living shit out of her. Instead, I called Lester. What else do you do to protect a child? I felt that Ranger had been somehow manipulated by a grown woman twenty years before. I needed to get this one for him.  
"Lester, I said. "This is Stephanie. You need a team to go up to the seventh floor and eject that woman out of the building. Now. We don't want to see her. She needs to be escorted down. If she won't come down, tell her you will call the police and have her taken out by force. By the book, boys. Let's get her off the property."  
I was really pissed off. I felt like I took charge of a situation that needed fixing. It really felt good. I had no idea who Ranger was, or what kind of childhood he must have had. I think it was cut extremely short by Jeanne Ellen. Having Jeanne in your corner was not worth what he had given up.  
Ranger slid down the wall. He looked like he had just said something that had bothered him for a really long time. I wasn't sure what to do, except just sit there with him. He was sitting with his back against the wall and his legs out in front of him. I heard screaming and some freaking out, but it was in another hallway, away from us. We were both listening intently, wanting to make sure nothing bad happened. Hal called about thirty minutes later.  
"We had to taze her. She is as mean as a snake. Lester called the police. They are going to take this one. I don't want Les Seabring on my ass about this."  
I thanked him, and hung up.  
Ranger grabbed my hand, and pulled me up with him. We didn't talk. He just held my hand as we walked to the elevator.  
"I am having a hard time with the way this day has gone. Let's get some sleep."  
We went up to the 7th floor. The door was still open. There were things knocked over, and a lot of broken glass. In the bedroom, there was a lot more destruction. The bed looked destroyed. She had taken a knife to it. Ranger pulled everything off the bed and flipped the mattress over. He kicked off his boots, pulled all his clothes off and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the bathroom with him. We took a hot shower together. Kind of just together, more than a full on sexual love fest. But he did wash me.. That was nice. We got out of the shower, replaced the bed sheets, and fell into bed together. Ranger held on to me the entire night. I think I slept like a rock, and I never felt him move.  
When I woke up, it was already 9am. Ranger was dressed for working at Rangeman. A cleaning crew had arrived and they had started working on the apartment. He saw I was awake. He crawled on the bed and kissed me.  
"Did I tell you thank you for solving my problem last night?"  
I whispered, "No."  
"I will." He said. Brushing his lips against mine. He smiled, and kissed me. His hands ran down my body as he pulled me closer. He stopped and looked into my eyes. "I have to get downstairs. We are running short this morning."  
The night flashed before my eyes.  
"Last night was a little crazy, wasn't it?"  
"I am still thinking about that one." Ranger said. "I will see you later. We have things to discuss."  
And then he was gone. Back to Batman.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

White trim and a painted lavender sign exclaiming "Vincent Plum Bail Bonds" was the only difference I could see in the details of the office that Connie and Lula had taken over more than a year ago. A younger version of Connie sat at the watch. Connie had worked for Vinnie since he opened the business. She was always at the desk in the front, usually blocking angry customers from getting too close to Vinnie. There was a semi-automatic in the top right hand drawer of the desk, and it was always loaded. The Connie look-alike was no more than twenty years old and had black curly hair that she wore in a sweep. A bottle of blood-red nail polish sat open on the desk in front of her and she was filing her nails furiously, paying no attention to the blinking lights of the calls on hold. They were no business of hers. A new desk and a dark brown leather couch replaced the worn desk and trampled vinyl couch that Vinnie had bought at auction. The second-hand feeling was gone, upgraded to slightly professional.

I couldn't see inside Vinnie's private office, but I was betting dollars to doughnuts that Connie and Lula were behind door number one. I smelled fresh doughnuts and coffee, and neither of those things were visible in the outer office.

"May I help you?" Connie Junior asked, smacking her gum between her teeth.

"I am looking for Connie Rosolli."

"Sure, she's always here. She is in the office in back."

She swiveled her chair. "Auntie Connie, someone's here to see you!" She yelled sarcastically.

She picked up the nail file making absolutely sure she hadn't missed anything.

"She'll be right out."

Lula stuck her head out the door of the office.

"Who's here?" Lula saw me. "Is that who think it is?"

Connie poked her head out around Lula's.

Lula looked like a changed woman. She had on a brown business suit with a short skirt that matched. Her hair was a color mix of blond, red, and black. It was pulled from her face with ringlets hanging down. Connie had on the same suit as she did, they were twins. Her hair was black and Jersey teased. They ran towards me, giving me hugs. I had missed them. Seeing them looking so professional was all the better.

Connie introduced me to Roxanne. She was Connie's niece, and a pity hire, sort of like I had been. Roxanne had wrecked her uncle's car; she was working for Connie in hopes to pay for the damage.

We walked in to the back office. A box of doughnuts from The Donut Depot sat open on the desk. The office itself hadn't changed much. Aside from the candle burning on the table, and the family pictures on the wall, the office was the same. The smell was different. Dirty locker room was replaced with Vanilla Cinnamon Swirl. I sat down on the desk and grabbed a doughnut. All I had eaten lately was food from the Rangeman kitchen. You can only eat so many healthy breakfasts before you wither away and die. Doughnuts were a gift from God, as far as I was concerned. A dozen doughnuts called my name.

Connie sat at the desk, and Lula lounged in a tall-back office chair. We quietly enjoyed the calorie laden doughnuts.

"I wondered when you would get your ass back to Jersey." Lula said. "I knew you couldn't stay away forever."

"We hang out in Vinnie's office now." Connie said. "It's so much better than working out front."

There was a stack of files on the corner of the desk near the computer keyboard. Post-it notes decorated the monitor. The desk layout was similar to how she had worked out in front. If I opened the top right hand drawer, I could guarantee her gun was there.

Lula was still eyeballing me as she ate. "You better have been sick. You've been back for days. No phone call, no nothing."

"Yeah, sick of getting shot at." Connie said. "You're still wearing your vest?"

I touched the Kevlar vest. "It feels safer to have it on."

"I couldn't wear one of those things." Lula said. "It would ruin my business look."

Lula had lost at least twenty pounds. She strutted across the office, showing off her new look.

"It's all this falling in love stuff. I don't want to eat. I could write a book about it. Fall in love, lose weight. It would be a best seller. You just need to find yourself someone to fall in love with. That's the tough part."

"Especially if you're already married." Connie added.

I finished off my doughnut, and went back to the box in search of another victim.

"So, Connie, how's business?" I didn't want to come off sounding desperate, but she had said that I could come back if I wanted to, and I needed to make some money. I would have a paycheck now from Rangeman, but I didn't know how I felt about Ranger and his company paying my way. It seemed too constricting. I still wanted my independence.

"Girl, you don't even know! We are doing great. I told you we had this business down. Vinnie has called, too. He is begging for the office back. Can you believe it? He wants to come back and buy us out. We celebrated our first quarter out of the red and almost in the black. We don't need his little weasel butt back here."

Connie cut in. "We probably will partner with him, though. He won't have control of the books anymore, they were a joke. He did pull in some high bond clients that won't call without him here."

Vinnie had installed a two-way mirror in his private office. It was a security feature that was very useful. Two men walked in. One had sandy brown hair. He was tall and thin, and he walked with a swagger that suggested he was trying too hard to be cool. He wore dark blue jeans over an old pair of cowboy boots. A utility gun belt held his Glock tight against his hip. Handcuffs were shoved in the back pocket of his jeans. I placed him at about thirty-six. He looked like he could have jumped right out of a television show about plain clothes cops. "Miami Vice" for the two thousands. His partner was shorter than he was, by about two inches. Instead of jeans, he wore army surplus cargo pants and boots. He didn't have the swagger. Instead, he moved with a relaxed saunter. He had dark brown hair, and had more of a Jersey attitude than Miami did. They stopped and talked to Roxanne.

"Who are those people out there?" I asked, watching them from the two-way.

"That is Santos and his partner Nick. Les Sebring let them know we needed some help. He sent them over. They don't have the numbers that You or Ranger had, but they are doing Ok."

Les Seabring was in direct competition with Vinnie's bonds office. He handled larger bonds and the new child protection bonds that were becoming popular. Jeanne Ellen worked for Les. Child protection was what she handled most. I had to go up against Jeanne a few years ago, she won. It was really no contest.

"You had a pretty high capture rate. I think it was seventy-five percent. That is big." Connie said.

"Yeah, but it means I lost twenty-five percent."

"Seventy-five percent is excellent, Stephanie. No joke. Those are good numbers."

"What about Ranger?" I asked. "What rate did he have?"

"He did ninety-eight percent."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Look, Ranger is a primo bounty hunter. You came off the street after being laid off from pushing ladies underpants. The fact that you have a seventy-five percent capture rate is not lost to him, or to us. Plus, you still are better than any of those clowns." She said.

I sat there thinking about ninety-eight percent capture ratings, and my pretty damn good seventy-five percent. Connie picked up a coconut frosted chocolate. I glanced again at the files on the desk. They seemed to be like the elephant in the room, just sitting there. It was quiet in here, but out front, calls were on hold. Lula and Connie were hanging out, eating doughnuts. Nick and Santos sat down at one of the computers, doing some research.

Connie put the doughnut box on top of the files. I eyed it suspiciously.

It was too good to be true. Something wasn't right. Things were too perfect.

"Ok, what are you not telling me?"

Connie and Lula looked at each other. She sighed.

"Well, ok, fine." She said. "We can't find any of the skips. We had to hire those two clowns. They are both from out of town. So far, they haven't found anyone. Half of the bonds go through without a hitch, the other half are sitting in that pile right there." She picked up the box of doughnuts, and the pile seemed to grow. Making them appear larger and more profound than before.

"What do you mean; they haven't found any of them?" I said. "Not one?"

I was at a loss for words. My jaw dropped. I even put down the doughnut I was eating.

"How many have skipped?"

Connie looked at the files on her desk. "Well, I think we have close to fifty." She said, still eating her doughnut. There was no panic on her face, but denial, it was there. I knew what denial looked like. Vinnie would have our heads if there was that many FTA's out there.

FTA meant "Failure to Appear". That is exactly what all fifty of these clients were doing. They were skipping out on the bond agreements. Vinnie would be out of business. Lula and Connie would be on the street in less than a month if these people were not picked back up again.

"You have fifty skips?" I said. Thinking they must be pulling my chain. The bonds office needed to stay open; it was my shot at feeling halfway normal again. Connie stopped eating her doughnut when they saw the look on my face. "It's not as bad as it seems. Most people show up to court. We are just having bad luck."

"We were going with the honor code. Mostly it was working, till you pointed out the fifty on the desk." Lula said in a huff.

"Ok." I said, trying to keep a positive attitude as I paced the floor. I was positive they were up a creek without a paddle if this wasn't fixed, was more like it.

"We can do this, if you guys help me. FTA's are not coming in, because no one is making them. Give me the ones whose bonds are running out soonest. Lula, you are going to have to help me go after these people. Connie, you are going to call and see if Vinnie is back in town yet."

"He is." She said. "He called to let us know."

"Then tell him if he wants to partner up, he needs to get his ass over here and help." I looked out the two-way at Connie Junior. "I hate to tell you this, but you're going to have to fire Roxanne, unless she wants to work for free. I don't think you can afford extra employees."

"Ok, geez." Connie said as she started picking up the doughnut boxes, throwing them away.

We separated all the open files into three piles, putting the ones that needed to be taken care of first on the top. Vinnie would work with Nick and Santos. I would work with Lula; Connie would manage the office and the filing. The remaining pile would go to Rangeman. Vinnie's group would take twenty, we took twenty, and the last ten would be handed over to Ranger.

Twenty files were more than I ever had at once. I tried to separate the files evenly for both piles. We both had some bad guys, and we also had some easy captures.

"I called Vinnie." Connie said. He said he was ready to come back to work, anyway. He still needs to kiss and make up to Lucille's father, but his balls are no longer in danger. Lucille decided to forgive him, and she believes the story about the hooker wanting bail money for her brother. She's lonely, driving her father crazy. He practically begged Vinnie to move back in, so he didn't have to deal with her anymore.

"Tell him if that website isn't down by the end of the day, I am suing him."

"What website?" They both looked up from the stack of files, curiously.

"Just tell him. I'll explain later."

I grabbed my twenty files, and headed for the door. I turned and glanced at Lula. "You are helping me with these."

Lula grabbed her shoulder bag.

"If I am helping you, then we need to stop by my place. I need to change into my bounty hunting clothes. No way am I ruining these clothes. These are professional clothes. Plus, all my special apprehension paraphernalia is at the apartment."

"What paraphernalia?"

"Well, let's see. I have handcuffs, furry and regular. The furry ones are in case someone is cute. Plus I bought new running shoes, a new triple power tactical stun gun that is illegal in eight states, and has three extra battery packs. I also bought a pink pair of super spy binoculars with night vision."

I knew extra handcuffs were good, and the binoculars might come in handy, even if they were pink. I still was unclear as to what Lula would do with the furry handcuffs in an apprehension.

We drove over to her apartment, and my eyes cut to Lula.

"Fifty? You guys have fifty skips on the table and you were eating doughnuts?"

"Excuse me, we were eating breakfast. Plus, I tried to track them down, but they weren't cooperating!"

I tried to find fault in that statement, but I had trouble in the past trying to find people, Lula always helped. Without her pushing to go and find some of the FTA's, my percentage rate would have been a lot lower.

"We need to make them come in, or none of us are going to have Vinnie's bonds office to fall back on."

Lula came out of her apartment building wearing a bright yellow spandex shirt with dolphins on it and a slightly ass covering black mini skirt with a pair of black Reeboks. She got in and dropped her ten pound bag on the floor of the Jeep.  
"I got everything, including the furry handcuffs."

We drove into the underground parking garage at Rangeman, and I used the key fob to open the gate. Lula looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

"There has got to be a good explanation for you picking up your things at Rangeman."

"Since I've been back, I haven't had a chance to look for an apartment. Everything is still here."

"Uh huh. This is going to be a good story, I can't wait."

I rolled my eyes. I knew I would have to tell her, eventually. Then I would have to talk about it, instead of just steadily moving toward something. I wasn't sure what that was, but it felt a whole hell of a lot like love. Oh boy.

My cell phone rang as I parked. It was Ranger.

"Are you downstairs with Lula?"

"Yep."

There was silence on the line.

"Hello?"

"Babe, you aren't bringing her upstairs are you?"

"We have an emergency. No one has been picking up the skips."

"Connie called. Tank is picking up the files for ten FTA's."

"We have twenty, Vinnie and two new guys have the other twenty."

"Don't let her look for my underwear."

He disconnected.

I left Lula downstairs, and thought I would like to have my apartment back sometime soon. Staying with Ranger was nice, but I needed to give him his space back. I opened the door to his apartment. Fresh flowers were there but things were still not right. The cleanup crew had left. Most of the evidence of Jeanne Ellen's rampage was now gone. There was still some missing furniture and the sheets were still off the bed.

I started looking for all my gear. In Scottsdale, I had a method. When there was a possibility someone would spit, piss, throw stuff, shoot, stun me, or make me run through garbage, it was a good idea to dress for it. I pulled on my black cargo pants, and a white t-shirt. I put the vest on, and holstered my gun in the utility belt. I pulled my hair up into a ponytail. I put my Bates boots on, pocketed the pepper spray, the handcuffs, zip cuffs, and extra ammo. I looked at myself in the mirror. Not too shabby, Stephanie. I was determined not to get hurt, or get on camera doing anything stupid. I picked up my pocket-book and headed back downstairs.

Lula gave me the stink eye when I got back in the Jeep, checking me out head to toe with a sideways glance.

"Girl, are you sleeping with that man? Um- um. Never mind. I already know you are. Look at you; you are all Rangered out. Accessorized in Rangeman equipment. You even have your own parking spot, and you look all relaxed. Don't tell me your not. I got a sixth sense about these things. You smell like him too."

"It's the shower gel." I said, defensively.

"No, it isn't. It's the attitude. You're all confident and shit."

"Okay, fine. I am sleeping with him." Geez, how did everyone always know?

"Umhum, I knew it. That man is all kinds of fine. I bet he is just as fine naked too."

I raised my eyebrows thinking about Ranger naked. It was not an unpleasant thought.

"I'm telling you, if I was in your shoes…" She trailed off, thinking about what she would do in my shoes. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what Lula would do in my shoes. I don't even know what I am doing in my shoes anymore.

"You better be careful, that boy's dangerous." She pointed to her head. "He's a little crazy."

I looked over at Rangeman. I didn't think he was crazy, but I did think I was insane to believe he was normal.

I looked at the stack of files.

"Who's first?" I said, as we motored out of the underground garage.

Our first FTA was Bernie Horowitz. He lived in the same apartment complex as Grandma Mazur. We sat in the Jeep looking over at Shady Acres. I had parked under a tree on the opposite side of the street. I realized too late there was a good reason no one parked here. Bird poop splattered my windshield. Lula's eyes got big and she looked up. I turned my head, following her gaze, just in time for a bird to land a large white caked splat on my head. Lula grabbed the files, put them over her head, and ran from the Jeep into the clear. Away from the dangerous tree. I fired up the Jeep and whipped out of the parking space. I moved the Jeep up the street and tried to get the poop off me.

"Do you think bird poop might be good for your hair?" Lula asked.

I took a look in the mirror. One big glob ran down the side of my head, catching in my hair as its mass oozed down in greasy layers. Yuck. Another yellow and brown glob sat on my shirt. My jeep was covered with white splats. Lula had two more on her shirt. We tried in vain to wipe ourselves clean. A car drove by. Bernie Horowitz glanced over at us as he passed. I checked the file quickly. It was him. He pulled into the lot. He parked and walked fast towards the entrance and went inside. I called Grandma Mazur.

"Bernie Horowitz?" She said to me with a tone that sounded surprisingly false. Grandma's voice changed pitch, and she whispered, "Let me call you back."

She hung up on me.

That was strange. I looked at the file on Bernie. He had lived at Shady Acres for eight months. He resided on the second floor. He was arrested for assault. Bernie had punched his best friend, Carl Maddox in the nose after a heated argument over two women. Carl called the cops and had Bernie arrested. Two women? Uh Oh. The two witnesses to the assault were listed as no other than Edna Mazur and Bella Morelli.

Grandma called me back a few moments later. "I can't help you with Bernie. It would be a conflict of interest."

"A conflict of what interest?"

"Of our interest. Both Bella and I have been seeing Bernie, and we don't want him to go to jail. It would ruin everything."

"He needs to get a new court date. He is breaking the law by not taking care of this. You can have him back, after. I'm coming up. What apartment are you in?"

She hung up.

Lula looked at me. "Did your own Grandmother just hang up on you?"

"Yeah, twice!"

I told her what Grandma had said.

"Bernie is one crazy guy. Seeing both your Grandma and Bella? He's a wild one."

"We need to go get him. Just don't expect my Grandma to help."

According to my mother, Grandma lived on the second floor of "The Shady Acres Phase Two Apartments for Senior Living". I knocked on her door.

"Grandma, I know you're in there, open up."

I heard breathing on the other side of the door, and shuffling. The door opened a crack. A security chain was firmly in place. Grandma's nose poked out.

"He's here. He doesn't want to go to jail. He has a poker tournament tonight."

"If he didn't want to go to jail, why didn't he just show up for his court date? Ask him that."

"I don't need to." she said defiantly.

"He was here, with us. We told him we would take care of it, and make Carl drop the charges."

"And?"

"Carl said no. He is mad because Bernie stole his girl, and broke his nose. He wants him to pay for it. He needs to have it reset. Bernie needs to go to the tournament tonight to win the money to give to Carl. It's all set."

"What makes Bernie think he can win?"

"He's real good. He always wins. Come back tomorrow. Bernie will come with you. He promises."

I looked at Lula. She shrugged.

"Tomorrow's good with me."

I looked at Grandma, with her pink hair poking through the door.

"Tomorrow, he better be ready."

Two weeks later, Bernie Horowitz was still FTA, but Lula and I were feeling pretty damn good. We had picked up all but four of the twenty files we had been given. Vinnie's team had five left, and I was pretty sure Ranger's team had been done days before that. I was still having a hard time believing that Lula couldn't find some of these people by herself. Clearly her head was not in the game when it came to skip tracing. I was getting my old apartment back. I talked to Kenny. He said that because of its history, he was having trouble renting it out anyway. I could move back in anytime. It would be nice to have my own space. I was getting comfortable living with Ranger. It was too easy; I wasn't ready to move in without a commitment, and I never actually got any kind of green light from Ranger about living arrangements, anyway. Plus, what would my mother say? She would have a fit if she knew I was living there, and it felt like that's what was happening. Then, he would be required to come over for Sunday dinners. I didn't think that would go over well with Ranger, or his life.

We had our backs pressed to the wall of a solid brick and mortar building. Pauley Bostitch already fired a round through his front door in an attempt to scare us off. He was next on the list. If we didn't pick him up, Vinnie would be ahead of us in points. It was starting to become a high stakes game between us. My team consisted of Lula and yours truly. Vinnie had Santos and Nick. Three against two. So far, we had been pretty lucky and we were ahead by one. We had to make the capture. Vinnie called moments before telling us if all went right, they were bringing in number sixteen. Four more to go for them. We would be tied. The prize for who finished first was up to two hundred bucks. I wanted that two hundred big ones. Lula would get half. A hundred bucks would buy me some time with Mr. Alexander. He was the best hair stylist in Trenton. There was a month wait for an appointment with him, and if you didn't call him Mr. Alexander, you might as well forget your appointment all together. I was in dire need of some salon time. I had made the appointment already, in lieu of our cash prize. The Arizona heat fried my hair. I needed that appointment, and that hundred bucks.

"So, what now?" Lula whispered.

Pauley Bostitch had been arrested for attempted murder. He had accidentally given the wrong pills to Mrs. Kowalski, and she had broken into hives and filed charges against him. According to him, he was under a lot of pressure. Mrs. Kowalski had been screaming in his ear. He claimed temporary insanity and they arrested him. As the court date loomed closer, he probably feared the worst, thinking he was going to jail. Attempted murder was usually something that Ranger would have taken, but it somehow ended up in our pile. The bond was not high enough to warrant Ranger's team to go after him.

After someone tries to shoot at me, I usually leave, but Pauley is my pharmacist. I was hoping that when he saw it was me, that he wouldn't shoot. I was wrong not to give my name when I announced "recovery agents. " The lead from the attempt to shoot at us was still rolling around on the ground next to Stanley's destroyed front door.

"Mr. Bostitch, its Stephanie Plum. Don't shoot me."

"Hello, Stephanie. Um. How did the cream I gave your mother work?"

"It worked great, Mr. Bostitch. Thank you for recommending it."

"You know, there are all kinds of herbal medications out there. You just have to be careful of some of them. They are all located on isle six, you know. Right next to the antacids."

"Ok thanks, Mr. Bostitch. I'll remember that."

Lula was staring at me. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Mr. Bostitch, I need you to come down to the police station with me. We need to set a new court date."

Silence followed.

"Mr. Bostitch?"

"Mrs. Kowalski is a bitch. It was temporary insanity. She made me pick up the wrong bottle. She was yelling at me. It could have happened to anyone."

"You need to talk to your lawyer, Mr. Bostitch. I am sure you can get this worked out."

"I don't even have a real lawyer. The court gave me a name of a woman who won't even answer the phone."

"I know a good lawyer, Mr. Bostitch." Kind of.

"If you come down with me, I can send him to talk to you. Would that be ok?"

There was more silence.

"Ok. Sure. Can you call him now?"

"Sure. Sure, I can. Just drop the gun, and we will talk about it." I gave Lula a thumbs up.

We both heard the gun drop.

"Can you walk out here to us?" I said

Pauley walked out and lit a cigarette.

"I destroyed my door."

I looked at the damage.

"It's Ok. I'll send over your new lawyer, he will get you a new door too." Albert would do just about anything to get a client, including carpentry.

We handcuffed Pauley, got him in the Jeep and drove him over to the cop shop. Eddie Gazarra was at the desk. Since I had been back, I hadn't had to talk to him. I was still harboring ill will over his video. That one stupid move landed me in so many pots of hot water, I wasn't sure if I was out of them all yet. I plucked the body receipt out of his hands.

"Geez, nice to see you too, Stephanie."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and leaned on the counter.

"Don't think that I don't remember what you did to me, Eddie. That video of yours has you officially off my Christmas list forever."

"Stephanie, it was a stupid video. You're still pissed about that?"

I stood there in silence. I wanted to scream. I wanted to bite his head off. I wanted him to know just how much that one video had changed my entire existence.

The FBI is going to want to talk to you, Eddie. I hope you made a copy.

Eddie flushed.

"The FBI? What, because I shot a video of you?"

I put the receipt in my pocket and walked out. Vinnie was still behind us in captures. I pulled out my phone and made the call. We had bagged our seventeenth man.

To celebrate, we drove over to Cluck in a Bucket. Lula got a snack box of chicken and I got an apple pie.

While we ate, I looked at the file for the next person on our list. Sasha Blankowitz . We were saving her for last, but she lived the closest. She had a nice apartment in a complex off Main Street. She worked at a strip club called Shorty's off the turnpike. Sasha was twenty-five years old, with black hair and brown eyes. Six foot two inches tall, and weighed 170 pounds. She had attacked a neighbor with a knife. On three other occasions, she had done the same thing. Her bond was high, and I wasn't looking forward to going after her. I wondered about her profession.

"Does it say stripper or wrestler?" I asked Lula.

"Well, it doesn't really specify either. If you ask me, she looks a lot like those crazy bitches that attacked us at The Snake Pit."

I picked up the phone and called Mary Mason.

A few years back, we needed to find someone who had borrowed Mary Mason's car. She worked at The Snake Pit as a wrestler and we ended up in an altercation with her, and some of her pals in a giant vat of mud. Since then, Mary had ended her wrestling career and opened a mystery book store next door to the bonds office. I called the store. Mary picked up on the first ring. I told her who I was, and that I needed some help.

"Stephanie, I heard you were back in town. What can I do for you?"

"Sasha Blankowitz. You know her?"

There was a pause.

"She used to work at The Pit. She got fired because she wouldn't leave her knife at home." That sounded about right.

"Are you working for Vinnie again?"

"I am for now, just helping out. How well do you know Sasha? I need her to reschedule her court date."

I heard laughter through the phone.

"Good luck, Plum. I don't go anywhere near her, or her knives, but if you're looking for a book deal, or a way to market that website of yours, you should come to me first."

Stupid website! I hung up. That website was going down.

I looked at Lula. "She won't help."

"It's just one of those days. No one ever wants to help. What is the world coming to?" Lula said.

We were already in the neighborhood, so we headed over to see Sasha Blankowitz. I knocked on the door; a giant of a woman opened it. I took a step back. Sasha Blankowitz towered over both Lula and I. She had to be more than six-two. My cousin was six-foot two. Sasha had at least two inches on him. She was dressed in bright white workout clothes with a black stripe down the side of her pants and top. She was all muscle. Her biceps were almost as big around as Ranger's. I would put her more in the class of "weight trainer", than "mud wrestler".

"Yeeah, Can I help you ladies?" She looked at us out of the corner of her good eye. Her other eye was swollen shut. She had a cigarette dangling out of her mouth, the ashes dropping on the floor as she spoke. There was a cat in her arms; it was yowling and trying to get down.

"Sasha Blankowitz?" I said.

"That's my name."

"Hi, I'm Stephanie Plum." I extended my hand, and she shook it. "This is my partner, Lula."

"Nice to meet you both. It is not every day that you see an interracial couple."

That took me back a beat, and I looked back at Lula. She had crossed her arms and was about to say something, but I motioned for her to stop.

"We represent Plum Bail Bonds. You didn't show up for court. We need to take you in, and get you a new court date."

"Get me a new court date, really?"

She put the cat down,and closed the door behind her. She leaned back and folded her arms in front of her.

"So, you two are going to bring me in, and get me a new court date. Then I would be free to go, right?"

I hesitated. "Right."

"You're lying to me." Her eyes were turning beady, and a mean look furrowed her face.

I needed to do something fast. I decided, what the hell, and went for it. I cuffed both her wrists behind her back. She was surprised; it was such a quick move that I caught her off guard. I imagined I would be over the railing and in the pool any second, so I braced myself and kept moving, like a real professional. Maybe, if you don't give them a chance to think about it. Maybe that's the key.

"Wait!" She said. My apartment! I need my bag."

I had heard that one before, and fell for it countless times. I had also heard the bathroom one too. I handed her over to Lula. She held on to her tight, leaning into her. Lula was no match for her. Sasha started squirming. Lula put all her weight behind it and held on.

"You better just stand still woman, or I'll zap you with my stun gun."

Her eyes went wide, and she fainted. I looked at Lula.

"What happened?"

"I didn't touch her." Lula said, "I swear! She fainted."

"Shit. We are on the 3rd floor. See if she has a cart or something."

"Nope, no cart." Lula said, opening the apartment door and looking in. "Maybe I could call an ambulance. They got gurneys. Maybe she needs to be checked out anyway. It would save us some sweating and panting and some plain embarrassing situations if we just call them first."

I thought about that. She had a point. I called the ambulance, and I locked up her apartment.

We were learning.

"Hey." Lula said. "Maybe we could make training videos for other bounty hunter wanna-bes. I bet we could make money off that."

That was a thought. I think we would be showing people what "not to do" more than what "to do".

Lula and I waited for the ambulance. They came and took Sasha's vitals and loaded her into the van. I handcuffed her to the gurney, and told them that I would send a police officer down to pick her up.

"We haven't ruined our clothes, and we picked up number eighteen." Lula said, giving me a high-five.

We motored over to Pino's pizza. It had been a great day. We were ahead of Vinnie by two. We pulled into the parking lot. It was full. It was Monday night. We looked at each other.

Lula Offered."Monday Night Football?"

I guess it could have been, but I had been to Pino's for Monday Night Football. It was nothing like this.

"We're going to have to go someplace else." I said.

"My stomach's growling."

I knew that Lula didn't mess around when her stomach was growling, in love or not. We parked across the lot, and went in. I opened the door to Pino's, and walked in on Joe Morelli's engagement celebration. It was a tradition at the cop shop to celebrate engagement, marriage, babies, retirements, divorce, and death at Pino's.

I had no idea what we were walking into until I saw the banner on the wall, and the people in the room. Everybody turned and stared, one by one, hitting each other until everyone in the room stopped talking.

I panicked. "Um, sorry. I guess we will eat somewhere else."

I was hyperventilating. I couldn't breathe. I could deal with this. This was real life. This was happening, and I am going to be ok with it.

Lula grabbed my arm and turned me toward the door. We walked out quickly. I knew most everyone there, even Bella. Trisha was there, and of course, Joe was there.

The problem I was having is that the banner didn't say "Happy Engagement", did it Stephanie? I said to myself. No. It didn't. It said "Congratulations!" And there was a baby rattle on that sign.

I turned and threw up next to the door. It went everywhere, including my shoes. Lula walked me out to the curb, and I collapsed on to it.

"Shit." I said, looking at my vomit covered shoes. I took them off and threw them as hard as I could against the wall.

I felt like all the wind was knocked out of my sails. My life was falling, my confidence was faltering. My head was spinning. I kept thinking that was supposed to be me. Joe and me. It was, and I ruined it. My life is a joke. I couldn't catch my breath. I couldn't do anything; I think I needed that ambulance to come back and pick me up. I was going to die, right here. My heart was dead. This was it. It was over.

"Shit." I said again. I should have stayed in Scottsdale. Why the hell had I come back? This hurt way too much.

Lula sat down next to me, and I put my head between my knees. I was still dizzy. This was it. She was pregnant. There is no net; there is no going back ever, and making up with Joe. No matter what, I would have to deal with it.

I always operated with the notion that if things go bad, Joe still would rescue me. I don't know why, but it was inside my head. And now, that was gone. I was scared. For once I did not have backup. For once, it wasn't a "maybe someday" or "in a couple years." This was real. He was not only engaged, but now he was going to be a father, and not a father to my baby. I had been back three weeks, I was still lost.

"You know what?" Lula said.

"You need a drink of water. I'll be right back."

She walked back into the restaurant as someone plopped down next to me.

It was Joe. Lula had seen him walk up behind us. I didn't.

"Shit, Steph. I didn't want you to find out like this. The guys put this together before I knew what was happening. The whole squad is here."

I started to cry. I didn't want to. Not in front of Joe, but I did anyway. He put his arm around me.

"Cupcake, I always thought this moment would be ours, I never thought that I would be in love with someone else, but I am. I'm sorry that you walked in on it. This is my life, and I am happy. Bob is happy. Shit, I just found out I am going to be a father."

He kissed me on the forehead. "You know I will always love you, Stephanie. I hope you understand."He hugged me again, and got up and walked back inside to the party.

I watched him go.

I couldn't help, wanting to change places with her, but did I really? I wiped my eyes, and got to my feet. After seeing Joe, I realized that I didn't want the same things as he did, but it still hurt. I gave him back the key to his heart, but it didn't matter, he had already changed the locks.

Lula picked up my shoes, and put them in a bag.

"You want these?"

I nodded, no. She tossed them into the dumpster. They made a thunk with a squishy sound. There was a slight smell. I knew the smell. I looked at Lula. She looked inside the trash bin.

"Stephanie. Where's that picture of the last skip we have besides Bernie? I think I found him."

After all that went on, we found one of our skips dead in the dumpster, behind Pino's Pizza. I was not about to go back into the party, so I called 911 and reported it. The dispatcher informed me that seventy-five percent of the vice cops and detectives were in the same parking lot. I knew that.

Three minutes later, the entire party came outside. Three cop cars pulled up. Lula tried to leave, but she and I were informed that we needed to give statements to the investigators. We stood there in silence, waiting in the middle of the flashing lights and chaos.

Trisha and Joe were standing together, watching as the body was removed from the dumpster. I glanced over. She was glaring at me. Then, she let go of Joe's hand and stomped over to me.

"Uh-oh," Lula said. "Not good."

Trisha had her hands on her hips. Her face was red. She looked angry.

"Stephanie! Are you fricken crazy? The moment you stumble back into town, you find A DEAD body at my congratulations party? Is this real?" She turned to one of the police officers.

"I want her fingerprinted. She dumped that body here. I want her arrested. This woman is nothing but trouble."

Joe stood back, trying to stay out of it. He knew it was not my fault that dead guys and I had a relationship. I found dead guys all the time.

"Lula found Kevin Yukowski. Not me."

Lula looked like a deer in the headlights.

"Nuuh. No, I didn't. I am an innocent bystander. I didn't find shit. You're crazy. I need to get outta here. I've gotta pee. Excuse me."

Lula turned tail and took off fast for the entrance of Pino's. I thought it might be a good idea if I went into Pino's to check on her. We would wait inside for the detective to get our statements. I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth for a good five minutes. Lula was sitting at one of the tables when I came out. It was a shame to just sit there without ordering. We were both still hungry. Lula couldn't stand it.

She ordered drinks and meatball subs for both of us. It could be an hour before we get to talk to anyone. I called Connie and told her about Kevin. With Kevin, we had picked up nineteen. One to go. We had picked up everyone except Bernie. She said Vinnie had two more he couldn't find, so we had a couple of days to pick him up,before he caught up to us. Ranger had come in to drop off the body receipts for his ten. She said something was different about him. She couldn't put her finger on it. He was nicer.

I told her about the disaster that was happening at Pino's, and that we had to wait for the police. We had ordered food. I asked if she wanted to come have some dinner with us. Pino's was pretty empty because everyone was outside. She said she would grab her bag and be right over.

Connie came through the back. She saw the banner and almost choked on her gum.

"Holy cow, someone threw up out back. It's really disgusting. They should hose that down before it gets worse."

"That was Stephanie." Lula said.

"You ok?" Connie asked.

The thing is, I think I was. I knew I wasn't ready for a baby, or to settle down and be a cop's wife. I think I was better than ok. I felt relieved.

We cleared off the "Congratulation" party favors and started eating our sandwiches. Pino's made the best meatball sandwiches in the entire state. I was feeling much better; confident that I was moving in the right direction. The party started coming back into the restaurant. Trisha came in first. She was talking and laughing. Then she stopped and looked over at us.

"You!" She said with a tone close to hysteria. "What are you still doing here?" She acted like she was going to blow a fuse. I had a meatball in my mouth. She shocked me with her outburst. I couldn't swallow. Standing next to Trisha was a pretty girl with dark hair. She put a hand on Trisha's shoulder.

"Trisha, I'll take care of this. Just go back out and look for Joe."

She sauntered over to our table and sat down.

Trisha went back outside to look for Joe. Probably to tell him that I was still here and that I should burn in hell.

She picked up a pickle that had dropped out of my sandwich, and ate it. "So, you're the notorious Stephanie Plum, huh?"

I had a mouthful of meatball sub. I was trying hard to chew fast, so I could speak, defend myself, or something. I had taken a ridiculously large bite. I tried to swallow it down, and choked. I coughed. She made me nervous. Marinara sauce shot out of my mouth getting Lula, Trisha's friend, and me with red sauce.

I started to laugh, swallowing the meatball as quick as I could. I couldn't help it.

Lula looked at her shirt; it had sauce all over it.

"Dang, Stephanie!" She started to laugh too, and picked up a meatball and threw it at me.

"Lula! That was an accident!"

"Well, accident this!" And she threw a pickle at me.

I couldn't believe this; I had pickle in my hair, marinara sauce down my shirt, and in my lap, a meatball.

Connie was trying to duck as I threw the meatball back at Lula. She deserved it. The meatball hit Trisha's friend instead.

"What the hell!" She said, and she threw my coke at me. It hit Connie, drenching her.

Connie took her sandwich, and threw it at her.

Lula grabbed her drink, and threw it on me. So I took Connie's ice water, and threw it on Lula. We were laughing hard. Mustard was running down my forehead. And I was soaked in ice water. Suddenly, I noticed we were being watched. We stopped to find the whole party staring at us. Trisha was out front, arms crossed. She came over to the table as everyone came back into the restaurant to find their food and drinks.

"Stephanie" She said. "I want to introduce you to Carmen Manoso."

Connie, Lula and I stared in shocked silence at Carmen. She had pickles in her hair, and her shirt was covered in what was left of Connie's sandwich. I put out my hand and tried to say, "Pleased to meet you." But I couldn't stop laughing.

She tried to be polite back, and shook my hand laughing with me saying "I've heard so much about you."

It looked to me like this only made Trisha more angry. She stomped off to join the rest of the party.

Connie and Lula went into the restroom to clean up and I walked out with Carmen. We stood outside together watching the police.

"I am really sorry about that." I said, trying to find words for what just happened.

"Look, I'm going to be blunt." She said. "Don't get me wrong, I am sure you are a great person, but Trisha and Joe seem happy together. I was going to ask if you could step back and let them be. Then I realized that you can't help it. Things just happen to you that end up involving everyone else. I don't think it's on purpose, I think it just happens that way."

She looked down at herself. "I haven't been in a food fight since summer camp. When Trisha told me about you, I hadn't realized what a train wreck you really were. No offense, but come on."

"Sheesh. Thanks."

A train wreck? Did she just say that? I was not a train wreck. I went from walking disaster to train wreck? Great. Wonderful. Fine!

She walked back in the restaurant, pulling stuff off her clothes. I didn't really appreciate the train wreck comment. I wondered if she knows I am sleeping with her brother. I smiled. That will be a fun moment.

Finally, we had a chance to give our statements to the investigator. We were free to go. Connie said Lula could ride back with her, as long as she put newspaper down on the seats. They both wanted to get home and change, and so did I. I wanted a shower. I got into the Jeep and I watched them leave. I turned the key. It wouldn't start. I popped the hood. My battery was missing. I had a feeling I knew who was responsible for this. Batteries cost at least sixty bucks that I didn't have at the moment. I called Ranger. This was his problem.

"Yo, you're at Pino's. Are you the one who found the dead body?"

"That would be me."

"Babe, you never disappoint."

"I'm curious." I said. "Could it be possible that Jeanne Ellen is still a little angry over what happened a few weeks ago?"

"Why?"

"My battery is gone."

Silence filled the air. "Give me five minutes, I'll pick you up."

Ranger had a tracker on my Jeep. He always knew where I was. I didn't need to tell him.

I saw him pull up. The parking lot was still full, but the party was starting to break up. Not many lookie-loos, since most of the people at this party lived and breathed crime scenes.

Ranger looked over at the cops and coroner and all the flashing lights, as he angled out of the Porsche.

"Glad to see you are still finding dead guys. I was beginning to wonder. It has been a while."

He walked over to me. A small smile lit the corners of his mouth.

"Babe, you have red sauce in your hair, and you have no shoes on."

He took a pickle out of my hair and tasted it, then pulled me to him and kissed me. "I really do enjoy having you back in Trenton."

Carmen was walking towards us. He saw her and let me go, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Well, look whose here, my little sister."

"Carlos." She said, as she walked over. "I didn't know you were back in town."

She was watching me, but talking to him.

"I've been back a couple of weeks." He paused. "You know about Edward?"

"I heard, I'm sorry." She was still staring at me.

"Stephanie, what are you still doing here? I thought you had finished doing damage tonight."

My eyes got wide. My skin started to prickle. I felt like my hair was on fire. That was it. I walked up and got in her face. I had enough of this crap.

"What the FUCK is your problem?" I asked. "Do you think I purposely made all this happen? Do you think I wanted to walk into Pino's and find out Joe was having a baby? Do you think I willed the dead body? All we wanted to do was get some food, celebrate for doing a good job today, and look what happens?" I waved my hands around. The Italian was coming out. I had no control of myself. "I have no car battery. I was ridiculed by some little girl who I really wanted to impress. I was called a fucking train wreck, and a walking disaster. Plus, I ruined a celebration by finding a dead body. FUCK! I want my apartment back. I want my hamster back. I want my fucking LIFE TO BE NORMAL! To make it worse, I am covered in marinara sauce and have meatballs in my hair!"

Ranger stood next to the Jeep, looking at his sister with contempt. She was still staring at me, her arms crossed in front of her.

"Carmen, you are going to need to figure out how to get along with Stephanie. I am probably going ask her to marry me. You and the rest of the family are going to need to deal with it."

Ranger turned his attention to me.

"You got in a food fight with my sister? I would have given my right arm to see that."

He turned and walked to the Porsche, getting out a battery and bringing it to the Jeep. He popped the hood and started hooking it up. I was standing there still huffing, but my eyes glazed over at the matter-of-fact statement that was just put out there. I looked at Carmen; she was clearly just as surprised as I.

"Whatever, Carlos." She said, then turned and walked away from us.

Ranger turned the key. The Jeep started up.

I was still in a state of "What the hell".

I looked at him in disbelief. "You're probably going to ask me to marry you?"

He kissed me on the forehead, but didn't respond to my question.

"If all she is doing is stealing car batteries, it's not so bad. Just inconvenient."

"I need to get back." He said. "Where are you going now?"

"Rangeman. I need a shower."

He smiled. "Sounds good to me."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Six months ago, Mary Lou called and said Rex had gone to hamster heaven. I cried, but I knew he had lived a very long life. She said the vet had told her he had never heard of a hamster living for five years. Her kids were devastated. She bought the kids another one because they loved him so much. I wasn't sure I could replace Rex. I didn't know if I wanted to. She had his cage and his supplies. I could pick them up when ever I wanted to. When I called her to let her know I was back in Jersey, she was so happy to hear from me, she dropped the phone. Mary Lou asked me if I wanted to go out for some coffee and talk. She said the kids were in bed, Lenny was home. She would meet me at my apartment. I needed to go there anyway. I had to decide if I wanted it back, or if I wanted to find a new place to live.

I parked the Jeep in the parking lot, and went upstairs to see if I could get in. The door opened with my key, the locks never had been changed. I walked in, instantly surrounded by the ghosts of my past. Joe's conversation, the dead guy on the couch, Benito Ramirez. Lula, beaten half to death on the balcony. Stiva, holding me at gunpoint, and Ranger getting shot to save his daughter and myself. Not to mention the countless lost souls who have spent the night on my couch. Or the calming effect of Rex's wheel turning in the darkness. It all came rushing at me. So many memories were here. It wasn't always safe, but it had been mine. Everything had changed. I felt sadness in the pit of my stomach. It was time to move on. I didn't own one-third of a cop, half a dog, or a hamster anymore. Fuckinshitsonofabitchmotherfucker.

I would let Dillon know I wasn't coming back; I'd look for a new place. I closed the apartment back up. I took one last look, leaving the memories behind and locked the door. I sat outside and waited for Mary Lou. We decided on the bowling alley coffee shop. She got in the Jeep, and we drove over. Lenny and Mary Lou bowled every Thursday night. They were in a league. Her life was a lot different from mine. I envied her sometimes.

"I think Trisha is a bitch." Mary Lou said after I had told her about what happened at the house, and crashing her party. "You know, Joe was a wreck when you left. He would come over and hang out with us all the time. I felt so bad for him. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to call you, but I think he knew it wouldn't change anything. He wanted you to be someone you couldn't be. It was a tough time for him. When he met Trisha, things got better for him. I think he is happy now. Who cares what she thinks about you."

I thought about what she said. She was right. I couldn't be what he wanted me to be, and if I tried to change, I would be unhappy, and so would he. I needed to let go.

"I don't think there are many people thrilled that I am back in town." I said.

"The only people upset you are back, would be Trisha and Joe. She is probably just worried you will come in and change everything. She is insecure, and she is pregnant. You have no idea just how insecure you feel knowing you are going to blow up like a balloon. It's scary. So, what do you want? You want him back?"

I shook my head. I wanted him to be happy.

Mary Lou listened as I went through the last year of my life. Her eyes bugging out when I told her I had gotten shot. She made me show her the wound on my leg. It was healing, and looked a lot better than it did a week ago. I told her Ranger had Tank come get me. Then, I had to explain Tank. She got very interested.

"Ranger? You mean that guy that came over the night I stayed up with you?"  
I nodded.

"Holy crap, Steph. Are you serious? I forgot about that guy. He is pretty scary, right? He makes me nervous."

When I first met Ranger, I suppose I felt the same way. He was unapproachable. He looked like someone you did not want to tangle with in a dark alley, or anywhere else.

"He doesn't really scare me anymore."

She looked at me, her eyes got wide. "What do you mean? You're not seeing that guy, are you?" She stopped herself from taking another drink of coffee as the question just hung there.

I ate a French fry, looking at her. I just smiled. She already knew.

"You are!" She said. "Omigod!"

Mary Lou sat there for a moment, staring at me.

"Wow. He's really cute. Like, scary cute." She said finally, taking a drink of her coffee.

She wanted details. How we met, how long I had been seeing him, how it happened that we finally got together. I gave her the whole enchilada.

"Do you like him a lot? Is it a serious thing, or just a casual thing?"

I took another French fry, and ate it, taking a really deep breath. "It might be getting serious."

We stayed for midnight bowling. It was fun. It had been a long time since I had hung out with her. The alley closed at two. We walked outside. No Jeep. I looked around to make sure I hadn't parked someplace else. Nope.

"Does this happen a lot?" Mary Lou asked.

I took a deep breath. I called the third floor at Rangeman. Hal didn't act surprised. He said Ranger would call me back. Why would Ranger be awake? I was getting a bad feeling about all of this.

He called moments later.

"I've already located the Jeep." He said. "Someone will come pick you up. This is something I need to deal with; I might as well do it now. I love you."

He hung up. I looked at Mary Lou.

"What?"

"He said someone will come get us. Then, he said "I love you".

Her eyebrows rose. "Is that weird for him?"

"Yeah. He never says stuff like that."

I was not expecting it. It made me even more nervous.

Hal picked us up in one of the big SUV's. After we dropped Mary Lou off at her car, we drove back to Rangeman in silence.

"Jeanne Ellen is a thorn." I said, as we pulled in the garage.

"You're telling me. She screwed with our security system tonight, and stole your Jeep. I think she is making a fool of herself."

"Can Ranger handle this?" I asked.

"I think you should trust him."

Trust. That is a big, scary word for me.

"Ok." I said. I would trust him.

I went up to the third floor with Hal. It was late, but I wasn't tired. I was uneasy. I was having trust issues. I was jealous. I was upset that I was jealous. I did Edward Montoya's old job for a while, doing searches, and some data entry. I was finished with all the reports by 5am. Ranger wasn't back yet. I changed clothes, went down to the gym and ran on the treadmill. I had a terrible feeling. It wouldn't go away. I went to the gun range and shot my gun until I couldn't hold my eyes open any more. I fell asleep on the bench with earphones and safety goggles still on. Ranger woke me up. He was sitting next to me.

"Are you going to stay down here all day?"

I tried to get up. My legs were sore, my arms were worse.

"Come upstairs with me, I really need to talk to you."

I started limping towards the elevator.

"You need to stretch before you do that next time."

Yeah, like there is going to be a next time. I thought.

"What time is it?" I stretched out my back, trying to get the pain to go away.

"Noon."

"Noon?" I had slept on that bench for 6 hours. No wonder I was sore.

"Everyone is behind on range practice because of you." He smiled. "I watched the monitors. You ran for thirty-eight minutes before quitting. That's a record."

He went into the kitchen. "I want to talk to you about last night." He opened a bottle of wine, poured two glasses, handing one to me.

"I went to see Jeanne last night. She disabled our security systems and stole the Jeep. When the systems came back online, the Jeep was exactly where I thought it would be. She owns a building down by the docks. She stays there when she is in town. I knew she would be waiting for me to come to her. So I did."

He watched me as he spoke. I crossed my arms, I was getting defensive. Why did I believe he would stop seeing Jeanne? She was a huge part of him.

"I took out her security. I went into her apartment. She was there, like I knew she would be, and she was naked."

I thought my hair might have burst into flames. I had to check. I put my hand on my head to be sure it wasn't, then took a deep breath. "Look, you don't even need to tell me anymore, Ranger."

"Just hear me out, Stephanie." He said. "I told Jeanne she needed to stop playing games with my life. I am done. I said that if she didn't quit, I would make sure her extracurricular activities with young boys was in the news." He smiled. "It felt good telling her to fuck off. It really did. I walked out on her. I think it surprised her, too. When I left, I drove through to New York. I wanted to just drive. It felt good to end it with her. I got this for you."

He took something out of his pocket. It was a small gold heart with a diamond in the middle. It hung from a gold chain. It was delicate and beautiful.

He had bought something for me. Wow! Ranger bought me a gift. It was so out of character, I had no idea what to say. He put the necklace on me. His lips were close to mine and he whispered "Eres el amor de mi vida." He slid his hands around my waist. "You are the love of my life".

To say this was incredible would be putting it into too small of a category. I chose not to label it. Ranger picked me up. He grabbed the wine and walked into the bedroom, tossing me on the bed.

We woke from a deep emotional sexual love fest. Time kept moving around us. Night had fallen. Ella had left dinner by the front door. It was already cold. I had to reheat everything. We ate in bed. I don't think I can ever remember a time I was happier than I was at this very moment.

"I'm not going to renew the lease on my apartment." I said. We were finishing dinner, taking plates into the kitchen and cleaning up.

"Are you moving in? 'Cause if you are, Ella will need a raise. Lots more sheets to wash."

I just smiled. I was happy that it wouldn't have surprised him if I said I was.

"I think we would never leave the apartment if I did that."

"You're probably right. You're pretty distracting. The place would probably collapse, and I wouldn't even notice."

I went to Vinnie's early the next morning. I knew the office was still in turmoil from Connie and Lula's loose bonds give away. Even though we had picked up most of the FTA's, more would be coming in. Vinnie's car was parked out front. My blood boiled over the incident with the website. I would have to deal with him if I wanted to keep my job. Since I wasn't here to fight; I needed to control myself. Vinnie looked up when I came in the door.

"Stephanie, nice of you to finally join us." I ignored him. I didn't want to talk to him just yet. I was afraid I would shoot him in the balls if I had the chance.

Lula saw me. Her eyes went straight to my necklace. She was good.

"You are telling me who gave you that." She said, getting up and walking over to me. "That is a present." She said, picking up the necklace. "That's not something you wear unless there is a person behind it. It means something. You better spill."

Connie smiled. "Mmm. I know who gave her that." She said fanning herself. "That man just keeps getting better and better."

"Damn skippy." Lula said. "He knows how to treat a woman." She looked at Vinnie, like he was a disease.

He looked at her like she was nuts. "Men who give women presents are saps. I learned my lesson. I am not gettin' involved anymore." He shook his head. Trying to convince himself that what he said was the honest to God truth. "Can we get back to separating these? Five more came in this morning, MIA at court. Connie, you've got to field these better. You're making me feel like I was a vital part of this organization. We gotta get back to running this joint, or it is going to go down the crapper, and soon."

It was hard to believe we had this many skips over the course of a few weeks. The files were in four piles. One set would go to Ranger's team. Tank was coming in this morning to pick them up. As we separated the rest, I casually placed Bernie in with Vinnie's pile. I didn't want to tangle with Grandma or Bella over that one. When it was all said and done, we had twenty-five more people to find. Lula and I took twelve; Vinnie took the last thirteen. He would work with Santos and Nick. They seemed to work well together.

I grabbed my keys to the Jeep and we walked out the door with our list. Lula was dressed like she meant business.

"Are you ready?" I asked her, after we buckled in.

"I am more than ready. Look at me. Pierre made me wear all this stuff."

I almost choked. "Pierre? He told you his real name?"

"Well, not exactly. His mama told me his real name. So he will just have to deal with it. Plus," she said. "I think Pierre is a very sexy name. I use it all the time now. I'm not really supposed to use it outside my apartment, those were the rules. Don't say anything."

"My lips are sealed." I did the little zipper lock thing over my mouth.

Lula had on military style cargo pants, and a stretchy top tucked into her pants. She was dressed in all black. Her handcuffs and pepper spray attached to her belt. A smaller, meaner looking stun gun hung at her side, next to her gun. Lula had gotten a permit. I was impressed. She accessorized the ensemble with silver sparkle hoop earrings and bright pink nail polish. She was completely out of character. And extremely close to looking like an employee of Rangeman. Ranger would shit if he saw her.

"He bought me all these clothes. He said if his woman was going to go chasing after bad guys, she needed to look like she meant business, or no one would take me seriously. He said I looked sexy. What do you think? Will people take me serious wearing these clothes and these big ol' boots?"

I hadn't noticed the boots. I had never seen Lula in boots. They were black steel toe work boots. They looked like they could kick some ass.

"I think you're going to roast, Lula."

"If I get too hot, I have some of my own clothes." She picked up her bag and brought out a black pair of spandex shorts, a bright yellow tank top, and some running shoes. That was more like it. I knew within the hour, Lula would be wearing those clothes instead of the ones she had on.

"I think Tank is starting to really get attached to me." She said.

"I think your right."

It was nice that Tank liked Lula. She needed someone to watch out for her.

Lula picked up the files, and opened the first one.

"I swear, didn't we have to do all this the other day? What is wrong with these people? They are making us look bad by not showing up to court."

"So, who is our first contestant?" I asked Lula.

"The one that is closest to a McDonald's would be the perfect one." She said.

She thumbed through the files, looking for addresses close to places to eat.

"Ok, here's one. He lives two blocks away from "Maple Donuts and More." They even have a drive-thru. Let's go after that one first."

"Who lives closest to Maples Donuts"?

"Michael Jackson Miller. He was caught with his pants down in a school yard." Lula Said. "We thought that maybe he would go to court. With a name like Michael Jackson, we just thought he would be ok."

I had to roll my eyes. "You guys are not good at picking and choosing who to bond out, are you?"

We headed on over to where Mr. Miller lived.

Our day began easy. We got Michael out of bed. He didn't have much of a chance to run. We took him with us to buy doughnuts because he was being so cooperative. Lula and Michael were singing to a Michael Jackson CD, as we ate.

"You're pretty good!" Lula said. "You should join our band!"

Before I could stop her, Lula was having Connie come bail him back out, so he could meet the band. He said he really didn't drop his pants at the schoolyard. It was late at night, and it was summertime. No kids were there. He just had to pee really badly. I guess I can relate to that.

I pulled the Jeep to the curb, and checked out the files. Walter "Moonman" Dunphy and Randy Briggs were both on the list. Walter was easy. I have known him since high school; Connie would need to bond him out again. Sometimes he forgot court dates. I also knew Randy Briggs. He was a little more difficult.

Walter was next in line. We stopped by his house, and picked him up. He had forgotten what day it was. We gave him a doughnut and brought Michael and Walter in together. Connie could get both of them out at the same time. It would save her some paperwork.

We were all out of doughnuts. I was feeling the sugar rush. I looked at the list. Kevin Nolan was next. He was twenty-four years old. He was picked up for hustling an undercover cop into buying him a bus ticket to California. He was also fined for being drunk in public. He hadn't listed any work history. Great going, Connie.

I knocked on his door. He lived in a small, low rent apartment building . I could hear music coming from inside. A girl opened the door and peeked outside. A rush of cigarette smoke escaped out the two-inch opening. She opened the door a little further when she saw it was just two women. Maybe she was dodging someone, like a landlord. She stood at the door with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, dressed only in a football jersey and a pair of boxer shorts. Her blond hair cut in a pixie. I decided to throw her off with my "stupid girl" act.

"Like, um. Is Kevin here?" I stood fidgeting, like I needed to use the bathroom. I pulled my fingers back, as if I was nervous. "I REALLY need to talk to him." I barked out a laugh. "Omigod. This is so embarrassing!"

"Yeah?" She said smiling. Thinking she had caught him doing something wrong, again. "Let me just go get him for you. "KEVIN!" She screamed. "Door! It's for you. Some GIRL, you asshole." She believed me. I looked back at Lula. I was ready with the cuffs. Lula had her hand on her pepper spray.

After a couple of minutes, a young man stumbled out of the back bedroom. He was buttoning his pants and spitting into a cup. He had no shirt on, and his pants rode loosely on his hips. His hair was disheveled, as if he hadn't slept very well in a few days. He leaned on the door and looked out at us.

"Yeah, what?"

When he got close enough, I asked. "Are you Kevin Nolen?"

He leaned father on the door, relaxed.

"Yeah. Sure. Why?" He smiled. "Do I know you yet? Are you that chick from the club? Cause," He paused, looking back to see if anyone was watching him. "Maybe I could meet up with you later."

I smiled, happy this jerk was on the list. It would be satisfying picking up someone like him. He had no respect for that girl in there, even if she was dumb. He was a real ass.

"I'm Stephanie Plum," I said. "I represent Plum Bail Bonds, Mr. Nolan. You missed your court date. You will need to come with us, so you can reschedule."

Realization swept over his features.

"Oh. I did? Well, can I go do this tomorrow? I got this chick in here. Come on, please?" He begged.

I slapped a cuff on one wrist, then the other as quick as lightning.

"Come on." I said, pulling him out the door. "This won't take long, I promise."

We walked him down the stairs. I held on to his cuffs tight. He looked like a runner to me. He started to walk faster, until he was almost at a jog. He tried to knock me into the pool, but Lula hit him with her new tiny stun gun, and he went down.

"Look at that! The baby stun gun works excellent." Lula said as she hooked it back onto her belt.

Together we got him into the Jeep and motored over to the cop shop for the second time in two hours. I do believe we are getting the hang of this.

By five, we had our hands on William Shinkle, Dale Madrid & Adrienne Luna. They weren't bad people, they just thought that a bunch of girls running a bonds office was no match for them. Lula told them all were to stick it.

"Lula, these guys aren't bail jumpers. They just don't have any respect for you guys. Maybe partnering back up with Vinnie is a good thing."

The pile of folders was going down quickly. We had six to go.

Carl Smith worked at "Cluck in a Bucket." Lula decided he needed to go next. We had Carl in the Jeep and had a free bucket of chicken to go with him. We motored over to the station to drop him off and call it a night. We had caught seven people in one day. It was too easy. I wondered how many new video uploads I would find on that website after today. It was clear that a few of these people skipped out of court just to see if I would screw up, and they could catch it with their iPhone. I needed a true computer hacker to fix this for me. I thought I knew just the guy. Randy Briggs. And, he was FTA. I would need to find him next.

I parked in front of the bonds office. Lula was getting her things out of the Jeep and I grabbed the paperwork we had finished for the day. Connie's car was parked out front. I would get my capture fees and pick up a newspaper. It was time to find a new apartment.

My phone started to ring, it was Tank.

"Something has happened. You need to be here. ASAP."

Tank hung up. I didn't like the sound of his voice, and my stomach started doing flips. I looked over at Lula.

"I have to meet Tank at RangeMan. Something happened."

"You want me to go with you? I'm good with situations involving Tank." She gave me a knowing smile.

"You're nuts." I smiled. "I will call you later."

"Sounds good." Lula said. "I'm supposed to have dinner with my man later anyways."

Lula's phone rang. She was on for a minute with a lot of "uhuh" and "yeah oks". She hung up.

"Shit. Tank just canceled." She said. "He told me he would tell me about it later. He didn't sound very happy."

I headed over to the RangeMan. I went into panic mode when I drove up to the building. At least twelve police cars were in front of Rangeman Headquarters. They all had their lights and flashers going. SWAT was on scene. What the hell was going on? I parked up the street and walked back.

I saw Tank standing at the lobby door surrounded by cops. His arms folded. He looked very pissed off. I watched as Joe walked out of the front door of Rangeman with another cop. He had Ranger in cuffs. My heart was beating fast. Ranger was looking down, clearly upset. He saw me. Before I could say anything to him, one of the guys in SWAT blocked me from coming any closer.

"You can't go over there. You need to stay back."

Joe was standing with Ranger. They were patting him down. I couldn't believe this. Ranger was being arrested. I didn't know what to do. Joe opened the door and put Ranger in the police car.

This can not be happening!

Joe closed the door. He looked like he was trying to figure something out in his head. He saw me. I was flailing my arms trying to get his attention as the cop in front of me looked at me funny. Joe walked over.

"I can't talk to you now, Stephanie. Your big friend over there, Pierre. He knows what is happening; you will need to talk to him. I have to go." He paused before walking away. "Believe me; I am as perplexed as you are."

He walked away from me, angled into the car and drove away with Ranger.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14

The moment Joe's car left with Ranger, the police let me pass. Tank was standing near the door waiting for me. I saw a few cops I knew standing around, but most of the activity was happening with people who looked more like federal agents then city cops. Most were on cell phones, but some were using the elevator to move through the building. I saw one man hand Tank a form on a clip board. Tank walked away from him, coming up to me.

"This is unbelievable. Let's get up to the third floor; you have to see this for yourself."

RangeMan was under siege. The third floor of the building is Rangeman operations. It is a calm working environment that felt like Karma and Feng Shui got together and had babies. Everything was always calm and peaceful. Now, it looked more like they had gotten a divorce. Along with detectives and police invading Rangeman, there was about twelve men and women sporting FBI logo jackets swarming the third floor as well. They were busy taking apart computer systems, going through files, and moving through Ranger's office with the efficiency of an elephant. I wondered just how legal this was.

Tank brought me into a room walled in glass. It was sound proof. From this location you were able to see most of the third floor. An oak table dominated the room. Most of the confidential meetings for Rangeman Inc. took place here. Tank stood at the glass looking out at the destruction in front of him.

"Stephanie, this came to our door two hours ago." He gestured into the outer room. "They have warrants to search the entire building. They also have warrants to search all our locations. He folded his arms across his chest. He was angry.

I watched with him, not believing what was in front of me. This morning everything was great. Now it appeared Rangeman would be no more if someone didn't stop this. I needed to find out what was happening. He needed to throw me a bone. I was completely in the dark.

"Tell me what happened. I have no idea what the hell is going on."

He didn't turn from the window. "Jeanne Ellen Burrows is dead."

"Oh, Shit."

"At 5 am this morning, Les Sebring called 911. He went over to Jeanne Ellen's apartment to find out why she hadn't shown up for work. She wasn't answering her phone. The door was slightly ajar, so he went in. He found her in the bedroom. She was naked, and very dead. Someone shot her between the eyes."

The conversation Ranger had with me came flooding back;"I went in, she was naked." He had said.

My heart felt as if it slithered down my body and fell on the floor. Jeanne Ellen was dead. This had to be a joke. Ranger was there that night. Fuck. Jeanne deserved to go to jail for what she had done years before, but dead? She may have been a bitch whore, but why would..? Doubt hit me like a ton of bricks. Ranger. He was angry with her. I had brought up his past, making him face something that had bothered him. She wouldn't leave him alone. I just shook my head, No. I pushed the doubt away.

"They found Ranger's fingerprints, and they have Jeanne's surveillance tapes with him on it. They also have the murder weapon. The gun from your Jeep. It has his fingerprints all over it. They have the police report that we filed against her for breaking into Rangeman. They know there were problems between Ranger and Jeanne. They have the murder weapon, and they have placed him at the scene. He held up his fingers, counting them off. Means. Motive. Opportunity. The police and the FBI believe they have plenty of evidence. A judge signed the warrant. He signed just about everything they gave him. Judge Conner was quite fond of Jeanne Ellen for the work she had done with the child custody bonds. It is also why we were not warned. Judge Conner was one of our contacts. The police came here, unannounced.

Tank looked at me. "When Joe told Ranger he was being arrested for her murder, he surrendered. He didn't do anything to protect himself. He didn't even call his lawyers."

All the air went out of my sails, and I sat down hard on the floor.

"Did anyone call his lawyer, Tank?"

He nodded. "They should be here at any moment. We need someone to stop the chaos out there."

We both looked out at the mess in front of us. I put my head down and clicked my shoes together. I wanted to be Dorothy. I wanted this to all go away.

I started replaying the night in my head. Starting when Jeanne stole my Jeep, and Ranger calling me. He was concerned and wanted things to stop happening with Jeanne once and for all. At the apartment, he said he had given her an ultimatum. Leave him alone, or else. He wasn't angry, just disappointed that he needed to spell things out. After he told me what happened, He was elated. Happy he had finally told her off. I touched the necklace around my neck. I held onto it.

"He wouldn't have done that, Tank. He wouldn't have killed her. Ranger is not like that. Plus, he is not that stupid. He would never have left fingerprints, or surveillance tapes for anyone to find. He couldn't have killed her, he loved her." I was determined to think only the best things about Ranger. I didn't think that he could do something that horrible, and then go out and buy me a present. If he could, geez. I didn't even want to think about that one.

Tank looked at me for a moment. "Do you know anything about who Ranger is, Stephanie? I mean, really?"

I didn't like the way he said that. Couldn't he have just agreed with me? Then we could move on. I wanted to keep my mind focused on innocent Ranger, not guilty Ranger.

"I don't think Trenton police really understand who Ranger is either." Tank shrugged. "Or maybe they do. There was a lot of fire power out there tonight."

I shifted around uncomfortably in my seat. I didn't want to think bad thoughts about the man I was falling in love with, but at the same time, I needed to know what I was getting into.

"Carlos Manoso is a mercenary, Stephanie. A hired fixer. He is as close to a hit man as you can get on a government level. He fixes all kinds of problems. They can be any number of things. Government organizations use his skills for different reasons. Small operations, things you won't hear about on the news. He does things that the goverment will never admit to. He takes people out that need to be dealt with, and he can negotiate with terrorists in a way they understand. We have all done things that make us heroes, we have also done things that make us monsters. What ever mission we take, we always felt we were doing the right thing. To do these things, You have to be a professional killer, or you would not survive. He is. We all are. He is good at it. Really good at it. If Jeanne Ellen needed fixing, he would have taken her out. It might not have even bothered him."

Tank cocked his head for a moment. "It probably would have bothered him. They had a lot of history." He looked at me for a moment. "You are right about one thing though. If he was there to fix something, no one would have known he was there. He doesn't work that way. He is smoke. Someone else fixed a problem that night and Ranger was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He freaked me out with his little speech. I always knew there were parts of Ranger that were dark. It was all out in the open now. I was falling head over heels for a hired killer. Great. What more can a girl want? Deep down, I always knew Ranger's missions were rough. When you have to stay halfway across the country to recuperate, it must be pretty bad. I may not know a lot about him, but I still couldn't believe that he would kill her. I wasn't ready to give up on him. I believed he didn't do it. I needed to focus on proving he was innocent.

"Who told Ranger that Jeanne was dead?" I asked.

"Joe did. He was first on the scene that morning. He doesn't know if they will let him work the case because he knows so many of the players in this opera. Plus, it looks like the FBI has some interest with this case. They may take it over.

Tank observed the activities on the floor. He watched as strangers rummaged through their lives work.

"Ranger came down from the third floor. The police couldn't get past our security guard. When he got down there; they put him in cuffs immediately. They said he was under arrest for the murder of Jeanne Ellen Burrows. Ranger just put his head down. I was there with him, and I called his attorney. Police have been here ever since."

Rangeman was a project they put their heart and soul into. It could easily be over because of this. If Ranger didn't kill her, someone was trying hard to make it look like he did.

Tank watched someone drop one of the laptops on the floor. "I want that lawyer here now. We can't let the business slide because of this. RangeMan is too important to all of us. We need to figure out who did this. Not only for Ranger, but also for Jeanne."

Tank's phone buzzed. He listened for a moment, and then closed it.

"Ranger's attorney is here."

I wasn't all that surprised that Ranger's attorney turned out to be a woman. Very statuesque, and very beautiful. She had dark brown hair and piercing brown eyes. She was in her early 30's. She looked like she had never had a bad hair day in her life. She held herself in a professional way. She was also very concerned about her client. A little overly concerned, is what I would call it. I was instantly on edge.

She introduced herself as Miss Angelica Rodriguez. She rolled her name out to accent its Latin heritage. Her assistant's name was Keith Douglas. Tank and I sat across from her and her assistant while she went over what they knew so far. She opened up a file and read to us what she had.

"Ricardo Carlos Manoso was arrested for the murder of Jeanne Ellen Burrows in lieu of evidence they have collected. Formal charges will be filed sometime in the next twenty-four hours. She cut her eyes over to both of us as she spoke. "They still need to do a formal interview with him. The police believe they have their man. I have already heard the term, "slam dunk" Used loosely around the station."

"Having read the report and the charges, do you believe the same thing?" I asked.

"I am so sorry." She said looking at me with a killer smile. "I didn't catch your name."

Tank interrupted. "I'm sorry Angie. This is Stephanie Plum. She is going to be involved pretty closely on this, so you will be seeing her a lot."

She reached out and shook my hand. "It is very nice to meet you, Stephanie. As for your question, I am very optimistic that we can get these charges dismissed."

She smiled and her teeth were so white that I squinted. Tank had used "Angie", instead of "Angelica". Apparently comfortable with using a shortened version of her name. I instantly disliked her. Her teeth were way to white.

"What we need to do," She continued. "Is move the investigation in a different direction, away from Carlos. We need to figure out who would want to kill Miss Burrows, and why? Did she have enemies? Who didn't get along with her? Did she have a boyfriend? Was she in any kind of disgruntled situation at work? Things like that will be important. It may be the key to finding another suspect. It is also what Carlos wants. I have talked with him for a few moments already. He is very distraught. He blames himself for dismantling the security and making it possible for something like this to happen. He feels responsible. He thinks he killed her."

She folded her hands on the table, and looked again at Tank. Ignoring my presence completely. "I do not believe he killed her, if that is what you're thinking. This isn't his work. I believe he's innocent. He didn't do it, but he wants very much to kill the person who did."

Her eyes now focused on me. "Now, Miss Plum. Can I call you Stephanie?"

"Yes." I really didn't like to be called Miss Plum. I sounded like a fruit.

"I know a bit about Tank and the other boys that work for Rangeman. Can you tell me a little about yourself? Why you are involved in this? I am coming into this with no paperwork on whom exactly you are." She said this in a demeaning tone. "Assistant? Secretary? The police will be questioning you."

Tank leaned back and folded his hands. He just looked straight ahead. I had no idea why I needed to tell her any of these things, but Ok. I'll play. I didn't like her tone, either. Did I look like a secretary? Not that I couldn't look like a secretary, I had been a damn good secretary for two days, once.

"For starters," she began. "What is your full name, age, and occupation?"

I took a deep breath. Formalities. Lawyers, I never liked them. I liked them even less after my divorce. I held a little bit of a grudge.

"Stephanie Michelle Plum." I said. "I am thirty-three. I work as a bond enforcement agent."

"Really?" She looked at me again, smiling.

Surprised, she was. I thought proudly in my Yoda voice.

"Ok." she said. Writing that down.

What? Did I not look like a bad ass bond enforcer? I looked at Tank. I got nothing from him. He was busy watching the office again.

"Can you tell me how you are involved in this case?"

"I'm an interested party."

"I'm not following, Stephanie. Why are you involved with my client's affairs?"

I looked at her. This had nothing to do with the case. It had everything to do with her. She was questioning me about my relationship with Ranger.

"That's none of your business, Miss Rodriguez." I said defiantly.

Tank looked at me. I saw a smile crack on his stone face.

She looked at Tank and then at her assistant. She put her gold Monte Blanc pen down on the legal pad, and asked her assistant to get her a cup of coffee.

After the door shut, she said. "OK, I get it. Carlos is going to pull me off this isn't he?"

"I don't know, Angie." Tank said to her.

"He should keep me on." She said adamantly. "He needs good legal representation."

"He'll get it." Tank said. "If he is not comfortable with you working this, Michael Rosewall will take it. He's good."

She sat there for a moment. She actually looked like she was losing her cool. She went on, now looking only at Tank.

"Jeanne? Was he having an affair with Jeanne Ellen? You know, he called me last week. He wanted to meet with me. What was he doing? If he was having an affair with Jeanne, this could be more complicated."

She started on a new page of her legal pad. She tapped her pen.

"Ok, Stephanie." She said sarcastically.

I could see why Ranger would say it wasn't a good idea to keep Angelica Rodriguez as his attorney. Ranger was important to her. He was sleeping with her. Agh! Damn it, Ranger! Trisha, and now this. This was such a small city all of a sudden. When he said he had other relationships; I assumed they were maybe in China or Indonesia.

She looked at me, maybe for the first time in a new light. "The police are going to ask you some very personal questions. You need to be honest with them; I will represent you until I am pulled. You need someone with you so you don't implicate anyone, accidentally."

She eye-balled the heart pendant around my neck. "Present?"

I reached up and touched it. She just smiled.

"Of course it is." She said. Picking up her fancy pen, and getting ready to write.

If I had anything to say about it, she was definitely going to be pulled from the case.

"You're one of the four." I said, studying her.

"One of the what?" She was confused.

"Nothing," I said.

She knew Ranger was magic as much as I did. We shared a knowing glance. Then, Angelica Rodriguez was back to being professional. She took her job seriously. She had called her assistant back in, and now she was gathering information and paperwork. He came in with the warrants and the search and seizure papers. She read through them.

"From what these say, two vehicles are going to be taken as evidence. A transport truck is already here to pick them up. One is a black 1985 Jeep CJ-7 and the other, a black 2012 Porsche Carrera. Also, the entire third floor and the apartment on the seventh floor is warranted for search. Anything that may be used as evidence will be collected. The apartment, I am assuming must be Carlos's.

"That's my Jeep." I said, panicking. "They can't take my Jeep, can they? I just got it back! And my stuff is in that apartment."

"Of course it is, dear." She said, mocking me. My eyes got small, and I glared at her.

"Well." She said. "Let's go take a look at the seventh floor apartment. I wouldn't want them to be going through things they aren't supposed to."

Ranger hates people in his personal space. It made me uncomfortable that we were going up to his apartment. Tank was not happy that people were traipsing around his boss's private space either, and I was not happy they would be traipsing around my private stuff. Angelica was just not happy, period. I stood in the doorway with my arms crossed. I couldn't believe this was happening.

Angelica looked around the room, watching all the investigators and crew searching his apartment. "Gentlemen, ladies. I hope that you are following the orders of the search." She walked around, making sure the things going out matched the things that were in the search warrant.

"Hey!" I said frantically. "Those are mine!"

A man was bagging up my underwear! I grabbed them.

"Stephanie." It was Joe. "What are you doing here? We are doing a legal search."

"For my underwear?" I said. I couldn't believe they would need those for evidence.

Joe smiled.

I pointed to Angelica. "I want you to meet my attorney." I said. "Angelica Rodriguez. This is the jerk trying to bag my underwear, Joe Morelli." They shook hands.

"Amazing how worlds collide." She said, smiling at him.

"I know Joe." She said coolly.

"How are you doing, Angel?" Joe said to her.

I looked at him, and then her. My jaw dropped.

"Really?" I said. Taking a deep, frustrated long breath. "Well.." I threw my hands up. I had to walk away. She was a slut! So was Joe, and so was Ranger. Agh! Damn! Was every good-looking woman in Trenton going to be part of this?

The police were pawing through my things, going through Ranger's bedside drawers. Picking through really personal things. I saw someone pick up the box of condoms. I knew there was only one left. I remembered mentioning that to Ranger. It seemed like light-years ago.

I wanted Ranger to be here; I wanted people out of my personal shit. All I could hear was "ooh, nice." Geez, this sucked. I wanted to leave, but I wanted to see what they were looking at, and what they were touching. I walked out. This was personal. They were ruining it. I walked down the stairs to the third floor. I watched the monitors as they loaded the Jeep on to a flatbed truck. There goes my ride. I wanted Angelica Rodriguez off the case.

I went over to where Tank stood. The rest of Ranger's men were standing against the wall, watching the office as it was disassembled. "Has Ranger called?"

He nodded, yeah.

"What did he say about Angelica?"

"He asked me to tell her we needed other representation. She is too close. It is uncomfortable. He told me to get Michael Rosewall. He is on his way down here now."

I would be much happier with someone else handing this. He was right, it was uncomfortable.

I waited for Ranger's new attorney. Tank was by my side.

Michael Rosewall looked like a casino pit boss in Italian leather shoes and shark skin suit. He was tall with a slick bald head and handsome features. He carried a team of seven behind him. They took command of the room immediately. He was in his late forties. He looked like someone you would pay attention to in a courtroom. He had charisma. An air about him that oozed confidence. Angelica Rodriguez was asked to leave; I watched her walk out after shaking Tank's hand, and Michael's. Suddenly, there was a lot less being taken out of RangeMan. Rosewall was apparently very good. Ranger was a smart man.

Michael Rosewall walked over and introduced himself to us. Tank and I were standing in the middle of the chaotic disaster that was RangeMan's control room.

We went into the glass room to talk.

"You must be Stephanie." Rosewall concluded as he shook my hand. Mr. Manoso has a lot of faith in you."

I was stumped. He could see this, and he explained.

"He named you his Fiduciary."

"His what?" I said still confused.

"You now have control of his estate, his business, and his legal representation. Everything. Like I said, he has a lot of faith in you. He wants you to find out who killed Jeanne, and who framed him. He wants you in charge. He feels like he will not act responsibly, so he needs someone who he can trust to handle his affairs."

That is just great. He was giving me the chance to screw his life up. That's fantastic. Just what I needed.

Michael Rosewall said he had to catch up on the case, so he could get things rolling in the right direction. He had both of us sign documents, and he let us know that only half the things they were trying to take were allowed. His assistants would be watching everything from here on in. They had stopped most of it, including most of my personal belongings. But not the Jeep or the Carrera.

"Tomorrow at eight am I will be talking again with my client. He has a formal interview with the police. I need to be up to speed with what is happening. I do not know much right now. By morning, let me assure you, I will be more up to date. I will be in touch."

He reached out and shook both our hands. His were warm, and his face reassuring. Tank walked him out.

It was very late when the police and the FBI left. I helped Hal and Lester clean up. The office techs were trying to get all the security systems back online with what equipment they had left. Ramon brought in some of his personal computer stash to help work it all out. They had five screens up and functioning.

Once I knew everyone was off the seventh floor, I went back up the apartment. Ella was there, trying to clean up. I helped as much as I could.

"This is a terrible mess, Stephanie. I really hope that Carlos can come home soon."

They had taken some of my things, and most of Rangers. His closet was almost bare. His dresser had been taken apart. His bed was flipped over and in a corner. The whole place was destroyed. I was angry. This should not have happened.

I checked my phone; I had a message from Mr. Walters from the FBI field office. It said they would appreciate it if I came in to give an exit interview about Paul Banter. I thought back, it seemed like an eternity since I had apprehended Paul. I tried to remember everything about it. The apartment building and locking up. The police station and the video. I knew they would call eventually. I called the number he had left. It was nearly midnight, I was surprised to hear him pick up the phone. I told him I would be happy to do an interview with them tomorrow morning, but either I would need a ride, or the interview would need to be at Rangeman.

They opted for RangeMan. I called Tank to let him know they were coming. I also asked if he would sit in with me for it.

Ella and I put Ranger's bed back together quietly. I helped pick up his apartment. I said goodnight to her, and tried to sleep. I stared up at the ceiling for hours, trying to close my eyes. Finally I dozed off, only to be woken up a few hours later by Ranger's alarm clock.

Tank set up the meeting in the same office that we were in hours before. It was a short interview. I told them most of what I knew. I had found Paul's keys, but I had lost them in Scottsdale before I could send them back. I left out the meeting with the Mafia, and the fact that I hadn't actually lost the keys. Then, they got to the meat and potatoes of why they wanted to meet with me. Mr. Walters wanted to ask me questions about Jeanne Ellen Burrows. I wasn't that surprised, since the FBI had overseen everything the previous day. I was curious about why they were so interested. When I asked them, they decided the interview was pretty much completed, and that they would see themselves out.

I looked at Tank. "Why would the FBI be interested in Jeanne?"

I looked through my pockets and found Michael Rosewell's card. I called him, hoping he could help. I thought that a lawyer high up on the food chain had to have some connections to the FBI. I wanted to know more about why they were so interested in her. Maybe it was something that could help Ranger. I didn't know anyone who worked for the Feds. Michael's office put me through to his assistant, Tom Dickens. I explained what had happened, and what I wanted.

He said that he might have someone. He needed to make some phone calls.

He called back ten minutes later. He had someone who would talk to me. For a fee he would give me twenty minutes. The fee ended up to be two thousand dollars. He said he would bill Rangeman for it.

Tom Dickens picked me up at 11:30 in his silver BMW. I guess assistants must make good money. Next time I need a job, maybe I should look into that.

"You have an interview with FBI investigator, Harold Krumly." Tom said, as I got into the car. "He said he didn't know what he could give you, but he might be able to help. He bills us, we bill RangeMan. Is that correct?"

That would work out great. My Visa card was maxed out. I had full access to Ranger's account. It was a strange feeling having that power over someone's finances, especially if that someone was Ranger.

We met Harold Krumly at a local pub. He was a large man with bad skin and a bulbous nose. Paul introduced us, and then said his goodbyes.

Harold already had a drink, so I ordered one too. I order a coke, since I knew my limits. Alcohol and I have a strange relationship. It causes me to fall on the floor, especially when I am stressed the hell out. I got right down to business. Two thousand dollars was a lot of clams.

"I have a couple of questions." I said, trying to get the feel of the man sitting at the bar. I didn't know if trusting someone who took money for information was a good idea, but I needed to start somewhere. "The FBI questioned me today. During that interview, they asked me about a woman named Jeanne Ellen Burrows. When I asked them why they were inquiring about her, they shook my hand and left. I need to know what the deal is with Jeanne Ellen and the FBI."

He smiled as he took a long tip off his drink. "I knew this would be about her." He said. His eyes lit up as he talked. It was clear he loved to talk about things he wasn't supposed to. Maybe he was a good contact after all. "I can tell you that she has been moonlighting for the FBI for about 15 years. She was a high paid informant. It is a pity what happened to her. A real shame. She was a beautiful woman, and a great agent."

"What exactly was she doing for the FBI, and what do you mean, moonlighting?" I asked. Fifteen years is a long time.

"Oh, the usual. She ran surveillance on known criminals. Kept tabs on questionable business practices. She found drug, weapon, and slave trade organizers. She also helped weed out some big names in mafia land. Jeanne was a huge asset. They are not very happy that she's gone. She took a lot of chances, and she didn't mind who she stepped on. Jeanne was completely in it for the money. She helped us with many problems."

He took another drink, put his glass down and motioned for the bartender. "She was investigating your boyfriend, Carlos Manoso."

My boyfriend? I never thought Ranger and "boyfriend" would go into the same sentence.

"Why was she investigating him? What does the FBI have on Carlos Manoso?"

"Jeanne was a strange bird. She had no scruples about who she fucked over, excuse my French. As long as she got her paycheck. It's not just this "Ranger" character, it is his company. He has questionable business practices. Ties to everyone you can think of, and he acts suspicious. RangeMan Security has been under the microscope for a long time. Jeanne Ellen was sure that she could find something to bring them down. So far, she had nothing. We were ready to pull the investigation. She is expensive to keep on, and she wasn't bringing in the results we needed to continue. She had been given a time limit. Six more months. If she couldn't find any evidence, the FBI was dropping the investigation."

"Who would have wanted her dead if they found out about her activities?"

"Everyone she had ever investigated, I suppose. Is that why you're asking? You think someone else came in after Mr. Manoso left the scene, and killed her?" He took another drink. "I think that is a stretch. I think he found out what she was up to, threatened her more than once, and then killed her. He's good for it. I will tell you this, If he didn't do it. It was very bad timing." Krumly lit a cigarette. Keeping is thoughts to himself.

"I don't think he did it, Mr. Krumly." I said.

He smiled at me sadly. "My dear child, what makes you think that?" He said. "He was in the perfect position to pull this off, from what I hear about him, he has very few scruples."

I disregarded his impudence towards me. "If he had killed her, he wouldn't have left any evidence."

"That will be difficult to prove. Although, she has enough enemies." He was thinking hard now, contemplating another angle to all of it.

"Could the Mafia have put a hit out on her?" I said.

"We know there was already a hit in place. She knew, she just didn't care. It was not unusual for her to be under fire. It never stopped her. She was unnerving. She usually hunted the person down that had the job, and killed them first. We have asked our sources about the possibility that the hit was completed. So far, no one is taking credit for it. Someone got to her first. Maybe your friend Carlos, or maybe someone else. She was feeding a lot of dogs. One of them bit."

An interesting analogy. I would need to think about that one. I thanked him for his time. And I went out and called a cab.

I thought about what I had learned. If Jeanne Ellen was an informant, she might have had a lot more enemies than anyone knew. If there had been a hit out on her, It was possible that "Tony the Tool" was after her. Maybe that was the big hit Connie was talking about. If Tony is not taking credit for it, who got to her first? And why?


	15. Chapter 15

The alarm clock was going off, pulling me out of a deep sleep. I glanced up. Five a.m. My fingers slid over the bed sheets, searching for Ranger's body. He wasn't there. The nightmare was a reality. Ranger was in jail. The bed was empty and cold, and I curled up into myself thinking about what his night must have been like.

I wonder if he had slept at all. It was hard to imagine Ranger in a cage inside the Trenton police station. I had been inside the lockup before, but not inside an actual cell. He could do nothing to change his situation from where he was. He needed me out here to find out what happened that night.

I had helped him before. I knew he trusted me to find out information that the police were not able to. When his daughter was kidnapped, Ranger was the prime suspect. The police had evidence that he had taken his daughter Julie, and killed people who got in his way. Ranger had a stalker that had gone too far. The man was dressing and acting like him. He came to me for help. It was a serious situation, and he trusted me to find his daughter. Although it was a huge compliment, I struggled with the responsibility of finding a child without him. I had found her, but I ended up getting kidnapped along with her. He almost died trying to save us. Now it was up to me again. I was afraid for him. I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to find the pieces of the puzzle and figure out what happened. This time if things went badly, I was on my own. I wouldn't have anyone to save me.

I couldn't remember falling asleep last night. I'd worked side by side with Tank and Hal until after midnight. When I left them, they were still getting the computers back up and running. I had climbed up the stairs to the rooftop of the building and looked out over the city. I was trying hard to get the perspective Ranger had told me about before I left for Scottsdale. So much has happened. Trenton felt bitter and heartless. Where was I supposed to be? Who was I suppose to believe? What the hell was I suppose to do?

I sat down, pulling my knees up to my chest. I tried hard to figure out what my next move should be. Nothing had come of it. My mind was blank. I had no idea what steps I should take. I had gone back down stairs to Ranger's apartment. I remember turning on the T.V, flipping through channels, and turning it back off. The apartment had been too quiet. The clock in the wall ticked calmly. The lights from the oven radiated blue, outlining the tile floor and stainless steel appliances. I went into the bedroom. I lay down on his bed, putting my head on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling. I must have fallen asleep the moment my head hit the soft cotton.

I stretched out. Five in the morning was really early. I lay there thinking about the day before. How Tank had reacted and how hard everyone was working not to fall behind. I realized we were all distracted, but trying hard not to show it. I knew Rangeman meant everything to Tank and the others. It was a top priority. The entire team needed to stay focused on keeping things running smooth. The project that Ranger wanted to start so badly was still in front of us. Nothing had changed. The Gaskil building was being completely rewired with new security features. Everyone was hoping that the recent arrest would not detour the owners to find another company to handle their buildings. The next two weeks would be crucial for Rangeman. It would determine if the news would affect the accounts that they had worked so hard to maintain.

It was hard to be in Rangers apartment without him. It made me anxious. I needed to find out more about Jeanne. She had a life. She did things daily. There were people out there that had to be interacting with her. I needed to find them. I wanted someone besides Ranger to tell me more about her. I had an idea where to begin. Connie.

I looked in the mirror. My hair was a scary jostle of curly fragments. My eyes were puffy. I felt disheveled and my brain was tired from trying to think my way out of this disaster. I put my hair into a pony tail to keep it from wildly misbehaving and I pulled on my sweatpants. I laced up my running shoes and clipped my cell phone on my hip. I went out to get my clear perspective.

I stretched and hit the button on the elevator. I got in as the doors slid shut behind me. It moved slowly and stopped. Ramon got in from the fifth floor. The men who worked for Ranger had small apartments available to them. They were situated on the fifth floor of the building. Ranger had me stay in one a while ago. They were nice, but not as nice as Rangers apartment. I ended up back on the seventh floor, and back in Ranger's bed. It had tested not only my willpower but his, to the breaking point.

Ramon was dressed in sweats and running shoes. I knew all the Rangeman employees had an extensive workout routine. They all had to keep in shape. It was one of the requirements for getting a job for Ranger. He wanted everyone to be in good physical condition. It was one of the reasons working for him might not work out entirely well for me. I wasn't exactly a lump on the couch, but I didn't strive to stay fit.

Ramon glanced at my outfit and checked his watch.

"What?"

"You're up early, and it doesn't look like you were pushed out of bed. My guess, you haven't slept more than two hours."

"And?"

"And, I think you are just as disturbed as we are about what happened. If you want a partner to run with, I am your man. I need to get out of this building. Everything is so somber. It's freaking me out."

I wanted to talk to him. Ramon was the only one who spoke up and risked his ass telling Kyle that I was a pain in the butt. He told me the team would not stand behind me if I didn't cooperate. I was making them all look bad. I had pissed everyone off, including him. Speaking up about it took a lot of nerve, and I respected him for it. He was the one I needed to talk to about Ranger. I trusted him to have a better outlook on what was happening.

By the time we hit the park, we were both at a steady jog. I found the rhythm of his gate and stayed with him. We ran quietly together focusing on the path in front of us. I cleared my head. The park had a long open pathway that was cement with a combination of dirt and grass on both sides. The path zigzagged through an area with a large lake and plenty of trees and plants. It was beautiful. I relaxed and concentrated on the trail in front of me. I needed a logical picture of what had happened. If someone was setting Ranger up to take the fall for Jeanne Ellen, he had walked right into the trap.

Ramon and I ran for a half hour, and then I slowed and started walking. I know my limits. When I start reaching the point where I can't catch my breath, I stop. I was getting better; I could only run for about five minutes when I started doing this a few months ago. Half an hour was really good for me. I needed to talk to Ramon away from the other guys, and away from Rangeman. I couldn't do it while I concentrated on not collapsing in front of him. I decided it was now or never.

"Do you think Ranger killed Jeanne Ellen?" I asked.

Ramon was silent for a moment.

"Why would he?" He asked. "For causing problems, taking security out and messing with your Jeep?" He laughed. "You gotta be kidding. Ranger may be a little ruthless when he is on the hunt, but he is not a cold-blooded killer. He over thinks everything when it comes to putting someone down. I have watched him work many times. Ranger loves the thrill of the chase, but if it comes down to having to do the deed, he hates it. Not that he hesitates, because he doesn't. But you can see on his face, he doesn't want to do it. Ranger does not kill anyone for the fun of it, or for unjustified reasons."

"Tank said he is capable."

"He is capable. Every one of us is capable, Stephanie. Shit, you're capable. It doesn't mean it would happen."

I walked with him in silence. I stared down at my feet, thinking that he was right. Everyone was capable of murder.

"Did you know there was a thing going on between Jeanne Ellen and Ranger?"

Ramon looked at me. "Yes. I don't know if I would call it a "thing", but it was obvious something was going on between them. If you are going to ask me if I know the extent of their relationship, I am pleading the fifth. It never was any of my business."

I smiled, "Ok. Fair enough."

We walked some more in silence. Then I threw the big one at him. I wanted to see how Ramon reacted to the information I had gotten yesterday.

"How much did you know about Jeanne Ellen?"

Ramon smiled.

"Did you know she worked with the FBI?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" I stopped. "What do you mean, Yeah?"

"I mean, yeah. Yes, we knew Jeanne worked for the government, the FBI or whatever. We knew that she was keeping tabs on Rangeman. We knew who she was watching almost all the time. She was just as much our informant as she was the governments. We helped her, she helped us."

"So you're saying Ranger knew, and was ok with it?"

"I'm saying she kept us on our toes, and she kept us legit. We all needed a little push in the right direction when we started the company, Stephanie. It is easier for us as a team to do the wrong thing, instead of following the rules. When we started Rangeman she was on our shit. She really wanted to find something to pull the business down. She tried. She thought Ranger should become an informant like she was, not a security specialist. Apparently he had helped her when he was a kid. He would spy on people for her. She taught him how to do all that shit. She was like his mentor or something. Ranger didn't want any part of it. It wasn't what he wanted. Knowing she was watching all of us, made him make the right decisions. He told us it was good that someone watched us. When she realized we were all serious about getting Rangeman off the ground, she would give us the heads up when things were going down that could affect the company. She was a huge asset to us."

"She was a huge asset? What changed?" I asked.

I knew things had changed between Ranger and I, but was it enough to do damage with her and the company? Maybe.

Ramon glanced at me again, giving me a sideways look. "I think it's pretty obvious you had a lot to do with it, don't you think?" He smiled at me, catching my eye. "Things changed when he left last year. Ranger took off on some secret assignment right after you left. I know Ranger was unsure of how he felt about dealing with Jeanne. Her calls in were now directed to the new employees. That had never happened before. We had dropped them all on Montoya's desk. He was the newest, and Ranger told us to let him handle it. This pretty much started her getting irritated with Ranger. She started using his cell phone instead of the office line. By then, it was obvious Ranger was pulling away from her. She was pushing it. He wasn't in contact with any of us, but she thought we were lying to her. She would call him, and then when he didn't answer, she would call us on the emergency line. It happened for months while he was away."

I walked next to him silently, thinking about the calls Ranger had gotten the day we had come into town.

"I think he knew it needed to end, ya know?" Ramon said. "It wasn't exactly healthy. He said things with her had run their course. She was acting different. I think his feelings were changing. He was concentrating on how he felt about you, and I don't think she was happy about it at all. It was strange when we kicked her out of Rangeman that night, it felt like I was kicking his mom out. It was freaky weird."

I didn't want to tell him just how freaky weird it really was.

We walked back to Rangeman. The building activity had increased. Rangeman owned the building they were in, but leased out the first two floors to other companies. The garage was just about full when we walked through. We took the elevator back up.

"So tomorrow, you up for this again? I could use an excuse to get me out of Rangeman duties."

"If I'm not down here tomorrow by 5:30, leave without me."

Ramon rolled his eyes, and got out on the fifth floor.

I went back to the seventh floor and took a long hot shower. I had a lot of questions that needed answering. Sitting around here wasn't going to get me any closer to the truth. I took Ranger's keys and went down to the parking garage. I didn't have my Jeep, but I still had access to all Ranger's vehicles. His Porsche 911 Turbo was sitting there inside the garage. It was calling my name. The car was deep black, and had black leather upholstery. It was dark and alluring. There is no other word for it, the car was sexy. It wasn't something I should just drive around Trenton. It attracted attention. I loved that car. I eyeballed it. There was also the Ducati Monster, the Ford F250 truck, and the three black SUVs the team had access too. I had the keys in my hands for all of them, but I still was unsure if it was ok to go around taking Rangers toys.

My cell phone rang. It was Tank.

"Take the Turbo, Stephanie. We have money changing hands up here. Make a decision for Christ's sake."

What the hell, I picked one and drove out. I took the Turbo. Tank knew me pretty well. I also knew he must have won the bet, and he cheated to do it. He had called me. Tank doesn't play fair.

I wanted to talk to Connie about the hit man who had been after Jeanne Ellen. If she was an informant, she might have had a lot more enemies than anyone knew. If there was a hit out on her, then that could have been the hit "Tony the Tool" was supposed to collect. Connie had talked about it. Did Tony take Jeanne out? If he didn't, then who did? Maybe she could find out something for me.

I drove over to Vinnie's. It was still early, but I knew Connie got to the office by seven, and Lula was there by nine. It was going on eight thirty. There were no parking spaces anywhere on the street next to the bonds office. I parked three blocks down and walked back. Something was going on.

There were people milling around outside the office door, waiting to get inside. When I looked in, I could see at least twenty more people. None of them looked happy. I squeezed through, making my way over to Connie's desk. It was at the center of a concentration of people. Connie was there. She was leaning over her desk arguing with an angry mob of three. Whatever was going on, she was holding them off as best she should. I saw on her face she was losing the battle. She was panicking.

When I was close enough I was able to get her attention.

"What is going on?" I yelled to Connie.

She saw me. She was instantly relieved. I couldn't get close enough to talk to her. The crowd had squeezed me out. She stood up, climbed on to her chair and yelled out over the crowd.

"Someone heard we bailed out Michael Jackson Miller, and now they think that we should do the same for them. I have no idea what the hell to do!" She climbed down again quickly as one of the men tried to look up her skirt.

I waded through the angry mob, finally reaching her desk. I opened up the drawer and took out her gun. This trick had worked before, and it always worked in spaghetti westerns. I was Italian, I was hoping that helped. I stood up on her chair and stepped up on the table, gun in hand. I peered out over the crowd, counting heads. I tried to get everyone to calm down so we could get things figured out. I yelled at them to stop talking. I couldn't hear my own voice. No one was interested in listening. Someone grabbed for my leg. That was it. I realized there were more people in this office than the fire code allowed. I counted twenty-five. It was my civic duty to do the right thing and clear this place out. I took Connie's gun and shot it into the air. The gun was very loud in the small office. The bullet hit the ceiling. Plaster rained down on us. I was instantly grateful I hadn't hit anything electrical.

Everyone stopped screaming and yelling at once. I had their attention. I yelled out over the crowd. "Listen,everyone! If anyone here needs to have someone bailed out of jail that does not already have paperwork here, please make your way to the desk where I am standing. We are only taking new cases at this time."

Confusion rolled through the crowd in murmured voices.

"So uh… my brother already has paperwork here. What about him? "

"What is your brother's name?"

"Kevin Nolen."

"Kevin Nolen jumped bail. I had to bring him back in." We are not posting bail for any clowns who decide not to go to court anymore. You need to make other arrangements. We can't help you."

Someone deep in the crowd yelled out. "What about Michael Miller?"

"Michael Miller is none of your freakin' business!" I screamed back.

Clearly this was going to be an issue. I was sick of running after these jack-offs.

"Now get out before I call the cops. You all are violating the fire code in here, and I bet there are some of you who have warrants."

The threat of police and of warrants had some people getting to the door quickly. Everyone started to leave. I was glad, because I had no idea what else I could have done except call 911 and hope they got here before someone shot at us. I knew why Lula bailed Michael Miller out, but our business practices needed a little tweaking. Lula and Connie were softies. They needed Vinnie to help them say no.

I could finally see the carpet below me as everyone filtered out the front door. I ignored the rude comments and the gripes about how Vinnie's business was going down the tubes now that women were running it into the ground. A few people shouted about how they would take their business elsewhere. I thought that sounded ok with me. Screw them and their bail jumper relatives.

It was finally easier to breathe. A few people lingered, hoping Connie was nice enough to make an exception. She might have, but I intervened. I reminded her that if anyone came out of this office with papers in hand, the angry mob would be back for more. This had to stop. I climbed down off the desk. Everyone had left, everyone except a pretty woman sitting on the couch next to Carmen Manoso. Oh... Crap.

My eyes flew to the front door, and then I casually glanced at the back door gauging the distance. I could walk quickly. I could pretend I had not locked eyes with Carmen. I had things to do. I could act as if I had a headache and lock myself in Vinnie's security office. I wanted to run, badly. The woman sitting next to Carmen got up before I had a chance to make an escape. She was my height, thin and beautiful with small bones and elegance I could never manage. I had seen her before, and I knew I was doomed. Doomed!

Ranger's mother walked up to me. Her intense brown eyes held mine and bore into my soul. I stared back at her in awe. I had seen her in pictures at the cabin. She had his eyes, and they were burning holes in my retinas. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't look away. Ranger had a way of making you pay attention. I understood now where he had gotten that power.

Carmen started to get up off the couch. Mrs. Manoso turned back to her with a quickness I did not expect and said something to her in Spanish. I have no idea what she said, but Carmen sat back down. She turned back toward me.

"I am Isabella Manoso, Carlos's mother."

I glanced quickly at Connie. She looked like she had swallowed a canary.

"Carmen tells me that you are responsible for my son getting into trouble." Mrs. Manoso said, still holding me captive with her gaze. "She says that it is your entire fault. She told me many things about you; none of them are good, Stephanie Plum."

Oh boy. This is bad. Ranger is going to be pissed if I upset his mother.

"I went to the jail today, and I saw my son." She said to me quietly. "Carlos said something completely different about you. He told me that he had feelings for you, Stephanie. He said what happened with Miss Burrows was not your fault." She looked back at Carmen for a moment, but not long enough for me to retort. "I didn't know who to believe." She said as she looked down. "I came here today to see for myself. To meet the girl my son holds so high. Do you know what I saw?"

I nodded my head. No. I wanted to explain. Oh crap. There was no way for me to explain the gun thing to Ranger. He wouldn't understand how I had fired a gun in front of his mother, stood on a desk and used cuss words in front of her. Triple crap. Moms were people you try to impress. I held my breath and closed my eyes, if she was going to breathe fire, this was the moment.

"I saw a little girl shoot a hole in the ceiling of a very nice building." She said. "I saw her do it to help someone who could not get out of the ditch, even if someone had handed her a ladder."

I opened my eyes. She was giving me an offhanded compliment. Ok then. I took a deep breath, and relaxed a little trying to smile.

"Thank you." I said.

I couldn't find any words to follow that with. Damn, I was tongue-tied.

She was still watching me. "You have courage most do not. It is a good trait. Help him get out of trouble. He needs you. When this whole thing is over, you come see me Stephanie. I would like to talk with you more."

I finally swallowed, and let out a deep breath. His mom did not hate me. She turned her attention back to her daughter. She said something too quickly for me to catch, and Carmen followed her out the door with a sideways hateful glance. I stood outside the office watching as Carmen opened the car door for her mother.

"Mrs. Manoso?" I said. "Can I talk to you in private for a moment?" I asked. I had this sudden urge to tell her something I thought she would understand.

Carmen walked away from her mother, pulling a cigarette out of her jacket pocket and lighting it. Isabella turned towards me. I looked at her closely trying to see her son in her eyes.

"This might sound kind of strange to you, but I was at your cabin. The one in New Mexico. Your son brought me there because I needed him to protect me. He told me the story about his father, your husband. I wanted you to know there is peace at that cabin. Carlos needs it. He feels his father is there protecting him and his friends. I think he is right. That place is special. Thank you for keeping it. It means the world to him."

Tears came to her eyes, and she hugged me. "Thank you, Stephanie. Thank you. I haven't thought about that place in a very long time. I gave that to Carlos a long time ago. I am happy he still finds it useful." She motioned for Carmen and yelled at her for smoking. Carmen glared at me once more as she helped her mother into the car. They drove away. Isabella Manoso was still watching me.

I thought it was possible I had made an enemy of Ranger's sister, but I think his mother thought I was Ok. Carmen had thought I was Ok, until she realized I was dating her brother. I guess your attitude must change about someone when you realize the wolf was already in your house, not just knocking on the neighbor's door.

Mary Maggie Mason was opening up her bookstore as I waved a final goodbye salute the way of Carmen's car. It was a relief that I was still in one piece. I took a deep breath and turned back towards the office. I saw Mary and smiled. Mary had put all her savings into building a business for herself. She had opened The Mystery Book Store. It was connected by a wall to Vinnie's. The fire last year had done damage mostly to the bonds building, but her store had also been damaged.

She saw me, smiled and waved. "Hello, Stephanie, how are you?"

I watched the car turn the corner. I was free from the Manoso spell. I took a deep breath. "I'm good." I said. But anyone with sense could see the transparency behind that statement.

She propped open her business door with an antique looking light blue chair that had an "Open" sign on it.

"You don't sound so sure about that. Would you like to come in? I don't know if you have seen the inside of this place since it was rebuilt. It's really something."

She stood in the doorway waiting for my reply. I needed to ask Connie questions about Jeanne, but I was intrigued. I had never stepped foot in Mary's store before. I was still a little perturbed about the mud wrestling thing. I never thought to come over and say hello. Once you have been pulled apart like a spring chicken by a woman in a pit of mud, you just don't assume you will need to make idle conversation with them down the road.

"I'll even make you coffee." She said, tempting me. "I want to ask you something anyway, if you have a couple of minutes."

Mary looked like she was doing well. She had lost some of the bulk she had from wrestling, and now looked a lot more feminine. Her hair was cut short, and fell next to her ears. She had on a dark pair of cargo pants and a plain white button down short sleeve shirt tucked in with a belt. She wore small silver stud earrings, and her makeup was freshly done. Her eyes were pale blue. It worked well with her blond hair. Working at a bookstore was good for her. It took all the roughness away.

She held the door open for me. What the hell. I could use a cup of coffee and maybe someone to throw some ideas about this whole mess onto. An innocent bystander who wasn't involved might be perfect. I walked into the store. I was overtaken by the dark and light contrast of the room. The foliage and the small lights made the dark corners radiate like it was part of some far off fairy tale. My mouth dropped. It was beautiful.

The bookstore was situated differently than Vinnie's. It had the same basic structure. Front and back door, bathroom in the back. Large front glass window. Everything else was different. It was magical. Vinnie had put in industrial steel gray carpet throughout the office. Mary had opted for oak flooring. A display case was adjacent to the front window displaying new novels and gift items. Vinnie just had the Sign in the window and nothing was in front of it except some plastic chairs for additional customers. The windows were lined with the twinkiling white lights that I was seeing throughout the store. The ceiling was high; the attic taken out and replaced with a balcony room with wood railings. A metal spiral antique staircase led to the upstairs floor. Wood beams were placed for structural balance with a combination of lights and plant vines climbing up. The long wall that separated our office from her store had tall wooden bookshelves filled with old and new novels. A wooden ladder was placed nearby to help with searching for titles to high up to see. The opposite wall had a combination of wood shelves and a large grandfather clock that sat behind her desk. A series of three display cases enclosed the area giving her an open office in the middle of the store near the staircase. The display cases held gift items and antique copies of books. A candle burned on her desk next to her computer and filled the room with a light pine fragrance, and a fax machine and phone sat on a small table nearby.

I walked through the store, looking at the book titles, smelling the scent of the written word. I was almost waiting for a few little pixies to fly around the room at any moment. I heard birds. I saw a cage positioned next to her desk with a pair of lovebirds sitting happily side by side. Near the back, where Vinnie's office was next door, sat a small children's section with a brightly colored table and chairs on a small yellow rug. Next to it was a wooden box filled with toys and games to play. On the wall, an announcement about the next children's night. Guest reader Camille Lending would be here on the twenty second of the month. Kids who wanted to come were encouraged to come dressed in pajamas and to bring their pillows for a night under the lights. The book they would be reading was "Where the Wild Things Are". I thought for a moment that Mary Alice would probably think this place was awesome. Mary Maggie pointed upstairs and told me there were two leather couches, a coffee maker and snacks for anyone wishing to hang out and read. I was impressed.

"When Vinnie's burned down," she said "most of this place did too; She looked around, pointing up at the 2nd floor. "I used insurance money and savings to fix and change the entire building to what I wanted it to be. This is my dream. Now it is a reality." She said. "We have been featured as one of the best places in Trenton three times in the newspaper, and I have been featured in Travel World as one of the shops to go to when visiting New Jersey.

I never imagined that a store like this would be attached to a bail bonds office, much less Vinnie's. Mary was putting on coffee and booting up her computer as I gawked at the beauty of her store.

"Did you ever catch up with Sasha?" She said looking up from her computer and putting on her glasses.

"Yea." I said. "She fainted. We had to call an ambulance."

"Really?" She didn't act that surprised. "She's pregnant. I know her boyfriend, Aaron. After you asked me about her, I called him and warned him that she many need to be bailed out again. I asked him if she was dangerous. He said she is a little crazy, but since she had gotten knocked up, she has put the knife business behind her. Now the most she will do is faint."

Pregnant. I hadn't thought of that. "I hope things turn out for her." I said. "I don't like to arrest pregnant women. They are unstable."

She sat there for a minute. Thinking, while waiting for her computer. She poured us both some coffee.

"I don't know if I ever told you." she said. "I was friends with the woman who got killed the other day, Jeanne Ellen."

"I didn't know." I was stunned. Hot damn. Luck was on my side. Someone who knew Jeanne Ellen. I had no idea Jeanne had friends, much less our neighbor.

"Yeah, we were pretty close, actually. Not many people knew." She said. "Jeanne was bi-sexual."

"She was?" I said a little too late to stop myself. That had thrown me again. It dawned on me a little late about the "friends" comment. It had occurred to me that Mary could be, but I hadn't known Jeanne well enough to think she could be playing both sides of the field.

"Well, she didn't exactly tell a lot of people, Stephanie. It was kind of secret."

I guess I must have sounded like an idiot. I hadn't expected any of this to come up.

I had to ask. "So, were you guys..together?"

"I thought so. I think she had her doubts." She took a drink of her coffee and stirred it, taking her time with what she wanted to say. "Jeanne had a lot of relationships. You knew she was seeing your friend Ranger, right?"

I nodded. Jeanne was definitely becoming an interesting woman.

"I never knew Ranger, except in passing on the street." She said "I only knew he was important to Jeanne."

She laughed. "I asked her once if she would consider a three way with all of us. He is a very good looking man. I wanted to be part of her world in some way. She got upset with me and said she would never consider it. It was out of bounds. I have no idea what the deal was with that. So, I dropped it. Do you think he was responsible for what happened to her? Didn't they arrest him?"

"Responsible is a big word." I said. "Maybe responsible for it to a degree, but I don't believe that he killed her. I wish I had more of an idea who did."

Mary paused for a moment. "It's a good mystery. I do know something that might help you find out who could have killed her." She said. "About a week ago, Jeanne started acting strange. She was agitated. She had been fighting with someone through text messaging. I think it was Ranger. She ended up throwing her phone across the room here at the store. She was really upset about it. It really bothered me. We had been getting closer. I thought that she and I had become a couple. I thought Jeanne was finally ready to make things more permanent between us."

Mary looked down at the floor, as if searching for what to say. "She was livid. She stormed out of here, slamming the door behind her. A few days later she came to see me. She apologized for what had happened. She said that she couldn't see me anymore, but wanted to stay friends. Whatever that means." Mary rolled her eyes.

"Did she tell you why she had decided to end things with you?"

"Kind of, but she was vague. When I asked her, she said that she had been getting serious with a man, he had proposed to her. I was surprised, to say the very least. I was hurt. I had no idea that she had seen anyone else except her casual encounter with your friend." She was quiet for a moment.

"Stephanie, there's something else. She told me she was pregnant. She said she needed to change everything in her life."

I almost choked. What! I had taken a drink of my coffee at the very moment she said it. It took me a moment to get my breath back.

"What?!" I said through strained vocal chords.

She nodded. "You heard me right, Stephanie. She told me that she was about two months along."

"Jeanne is almost fifty. How could she be pregnant?"

She shrugged. I actually asked her the same thing. She said she confirmed it with her doctor. She was worried. She didn't know if she wanted to tell anyone about it. I don't think it occurred to her that she could get pregnant. "

"Did you ask her who the father was?"

I bit my lip, worried about what her answer might be.

"I asked her, but like I said, she was vague. Getting her to talk sometimes was like pulling teeth. All she said was she wasn't sure. She also said she wasn't even sure she was keeping the baby. Then she told me she had someplace to be, and that she would keep in touch. She hugged me, said goodbye and she left."

Mary looked sad. I think she was still trying to grasp the idea Jeanne wasn't coming back.

"The next thing I knew, she was dead." Mary said. "I doubt that anyone even knew that we had been seeing each other. How close we were. It was like I was a deep dark secret. I miss her."

Mary wiped her tears away, as she looked out the window of her bookstore. I wanted to console her. I felt so bad. You just don't think about how many people are affected by someone dying. It can be someone's son or daughter, a friend, a lover, or even a neighbor. When someone dies, the world loses a piece of itself.

Jeanne Ellen Burrows had too many secrets. She must have known the dangers of having that much going on at once. It had to have been exhausting.

"Mary, You need to come forward with this information. The police need to know about this." I said, giving her a tissue to wipe her eyes. "Did you ever see Jeanne with anyone else; anyone she was on the phone with a lot? Or mentioned a lot?"

She shook her head. "It wasn't like that; she never let me in on any part of her life whatsoever." She said.

"You need to talk to the police. Anything might be helpful in finding who did this to her." I said.

"Ok, sure. I will". Mary sat there for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

My head felt like it was going to explode with all the crazy information that kept coming up for his woman. Who the hell did she think she was? How did she manage to juggle so many things around? I was instantly glad my life was less complicated than hers.

"Stephanie, on another note," Mary said. "Joyce Barnhardt has been coming over here. She has been talking to me about becoming a ghost writer. She wants me to help her write a book on bond enforcement. She wants someone else to pen it for her. She said the book would be a study and learning course of what to do and what not to do. I thought it was a good idea, until she showed me the photos and exploits she would use as examples. They were all of you. She was going to use pictures and videos of your takedowns, and then have notes on what to do instead of what you had done. It was an interesting idea, but she doesn't understand that she needs your permission to use the images and videos. I think she has a bit of a vendetta against you."

I took a deep breath. "Joyce." My face felt hot. She is a tick.

Mary looked at me funny. I think steam must have been coming out my ears.

"That's what I thought." She said. "I just wanted to make sure you knew. You know, you could do your own book. Use her ideas, but make it right instead of insulting. Think about it. It could mean money in both our pockets."

I thanked her for all the information and I asked if she came up with anything else about Jeanne, to please let me know. I also said I didn't think I was interested in a book of any sort, but she would be first to know if I changed my mind.

I walked outside and called Rangers attorney, Michael Rosewall. I asked him about handling a case for me against my cousin and Joyce. He told me to go ahead and send him what I had on them, and he would look into it. I felt slightly relieved. Maybe Rosewall could scare the crap out of Joyce for me. Then I got to the point of why I called.

"Jeanne Ellen was two months pregnant." I said. "I wanted to give you the heads up."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. "Do you know this for sure?"

"No, it is not verified. I just talked to Jeanne's girlfriend. She claims Jeanne broke a relationship off with her a week ago because she needed to change her life."

"Let me get back to you." He said.

I didn't know if this would have any relevancy in this case whatsoever. There was a chance that there could be another suspect if there was any way to get DNA from Jeanne. Maybe it could help Ranger. Of course, if the DNA was Rangers, that might not work out so well.

I decided to call Joe. He answered after three long rings.

"Yep…What?"

I think he was annoyed I had called him.

"Stephanie, if this is about my grandmother, you need to call my mother. I'm busy. I am not responsible for her anymore."

I heard papers being shuffled around in the background. I started second guessing my call to him. It might have been a bad idea to talk to him.

"Did you know Jeanne was telling people she was pregnant?"

There was dead silence on the other end of the line. The papers stopped shuffling.

"Who told you that?" He said agitated.

"Have you gotten the tox report back yet?"

"No, it takes a couple days. Stephanie, who told you she might be pregnant?"

He was getting pissed. I could hear it in his voice. It had begun as cool annoyance, now it was flat out upset. I smiled. I had found a clue. He hadn't even been looking.

"Who told you, Stephanie?" His voice raised up a notch. I thought I should probably end this conversation, since I needed to ask Mary if I could tell Joe about her.

"I gotta go." I said hanging up on him.

I didn't know if what Jeanne had told Mary was the truth; it could all be just something she said to her to get her to leave things alone. I had no proof to back it up. I was curious. Who was Jeanne's doctor?

I walked back into the bookstore. Mary was at the computer working. She heard the door chime and looked up.

"Hey, Stephanie, decide to come back and browse?" Her cheerfulness was back. She was handling it. Mary was a pretty tough woman.

"I want to give the police the information you gave me about Jeanne. Would it be okay if I told them your name? They will ask questions."

She paused with what she was doing. "You can tell them." She said. "I am happy to help out, and I am glad you want to call it in. I didn't know where to begin."

I let her know that it was possible she would hear from the police. They would probably want her to come in and talk to them in person. I thanked her and I waved as I walked out the door. As soon as it closed, I called Joe back. He was blowing up my phone since I had been inside the building.

"Are you going to tell me who gave you this information?" He said. "I called down to forensics. They haven't gotten that far yet. They are still processing the body. How the hell do you find out information so quickly?"

"Mary Maggie Mason." I said. It felt good having clues they didn't.

"Who is Mary Maggie Mason?" He said, a little confused. "The name sounds like a nursery rhyme. Wait, you mean the wrestler?"

"That's her. The wrestler. She was seeing Jeanne." I said to him. I couldn't help but feel a little elated for finding information that might be important. "She broke up with Mary because Jeanne said she was involved with a man. She told Mary she was pregnant."

I heard Joe rustle papers around in the background. "Says here Jeanne was forty-nine."

"That's what I heard too."

"I am not an expert in women's reproductive systems, but isn't that a bit of a stretch for a pregnancy?"

"Yeah, It is." I said. "Mary thought so, also. Apparently Jeanne was pretty surprised herself, according to Mary."

"What else did she say?"

"She told Mary that he had proposed to her. She wanted to change her life and be with him."

"And, who is the guy?"

"I don't know."

"What makes you think this person isn't Ranger? It looked to me like Ranger had his fingers in a lot of pies."

"Yeah, apparently you did too."

My face flushed. There it was. I threw it out there like a jealous housewife. I wanted to smack myself. It was none of my business who Joe slept with. I took a deep breath.

He was silent for a moment. Which was good. I needed to regroup.

"Ok. Where is this Mary Maggie now? We will need to talk to her."

"She has a bookstore next to Vinnie's. The Mystery Bookstore." I said.

"That is her bookstore?"

We were both silent for a moment.

"Stephanie, you realize this doesn't mean Ranger didn't commit the crime. You might have gotten him in more hot water. I am not suppose to tell you this, but you should ask his lawyer before calling in anymore tips, Cupcake."

"Don't call me that anymore." He had a point, but he didn't need to call me Cupcake. I needed to curb my addiction of calling in leads.

"You are a cupcake. Thanks for the tip on Mary." He hung up.

He can't call me that anymore. It is against the rules. Let's see him call me that in front of Trisha.

I stood in front of Vinnie's. This new information had my brain on overloaded. Mary was right, it is a good mystery. I looked back again at the bookstore. I hoped telling Joe about Jeanne wasn't the wrong move. Ranger was not in Trenton when Jeanne Ellen claims to have gotten pregnant. Unless she was on the mission with him. I think that was extremely doubtful. Ramon had told me about the calls they had to filter through because she wanted to talk to Ranger. He was either in New Mexico or he was overseas. He couldn't be the father of her baby. If there was even was a baby to begin with. I knew that game. Women used it to get into relationships and to get out of relationships. Jeanne would lie to the Pope if she thought it would get her what she wanted. I wouldn't put anything past her.

A car pulled up next to me. It was Carmen. Crap. Didn't I just go through this? I opened the door to the office and walked in quickly. I went out the back door. Connie didn't even flinch. Carmen was already there waiting for me. Those are skills, ladies and gentlemen. Skills. You're born with those. She was as cool as Ranger. And she didn't even have to try.

I looked down, knowing I was caught. I put my hands on my hips. "Shit."I said quietly.

"Nice, Stephanie. Very nice. I taught Carlos everything he knows about trusting people's body language. I knew you were going for the back door before you did. I'm the master. Don't fuck with me." She said smiling.

I just rolled my eyes. "Whatever." I said defiantly. "I needed to come out here anyways. I was looking for my.. My lucky …" I looked around, there had to be something. and there it was. "My lucky paperclip."

I picked up an old discarded paperclip and looked at it, putting it in my pocket like a good luck charm.

Carmen leaned against the wall and rolled a cigarette. Not many people rolled their own anymore. I was mesmerized. When she was done licking the sides she lit it. She stood there looking at me with curiosity. I bet she practiced that look in the mirror to be cool. She looked way too much like Ranger, and that was really annoying. I took another deep breath, and folded my arms in front of me, waiting.

"Is there something you wanted, Carmen? I have a life. Things to do, places to go. I half tolerate this from your brother, but I have to tell you, there is usually a pot of "happy" waiting at the end of that rainbow. I don't believe that would be the case here. So if you want to kick my ass or scream at me or threaten me, do it soon. I need to get back to my life."

She looked at me, and lit her cigarette.

"Ok Fonzi, what?" I said. I was annoyed that she was playing this role, and making me wait for her.

She had been sucking in to light the cigarette, and she almost choked.

"Fonzi? Are you serious?" She said. "I was going more for Angelina. I get Fonzi? Shit. It's the black jacket isn't it?"

"Its everything." I said. "You are very Joan Jett. Your tough. I always wanted to be Suzi Quatro. I was actually jealous."

I wanted to look that tough sometimes. I just couldn't pull it off.

She blew out some smoke.

"I don't really know how to approach this, Stephanie." She said. "When Trisha first talked about you, and when I met you, I never imagined that you were close to my brother. I should have guessed. You were bond enforcement, so is Carlos. I should have known Carlos would pick up your scent."

Pick up my scent? Was that an insult? I wasn't sure, but it felt like an insult.

"I want you to stay away from my family. You're bad luck. We don't need anymore bad luck. I don't like it that you are seeing my brother. I do think you are to blame for all the shit happening to him right now. Joe has told me enough about you to know you have bad karma. I don't want Carlos or our family to get caught up in your drama."

She pointed her finger at me accusingly getting into my face. "You are going to bring him down. Get him killed. It will spread throughout my family, causing grief and instability. As a matter of fact, when I found out about Carlos being arrested, I drove straight over to Joe's, and I punched him."

I looked at her incredulously. She nodded.

"I did. Right in the face." She curled up her fist like it was a threat. "He has a black eye. You know why? This is partially his fault. If he had stayed with you, my brother would not be in jail. You would still be Joe's problem and not Carlos' problem. Making it my family's problem."

She folded her arms and stared at me, angrily.

A year ago, that statement would have devastated me. Up until a couple days ago, it probably would have thrown me into inner turmoil. Today, I had things I needed to do, and she was holding me up. I didn't care what she or her family thought about me. I had found a damn good clue, and I needed to run with it. I was not going to let Ranger down because his sister wanted me to feel like shit.

"You know, you aren't worried about your brother. You are worried about how this all might affect you. Your brother is struggling to figure out what the hell happened with a good friend of his, and his life is on the line. You need to deal with it."

She stood in front of me for a moment. I wasn't sure if she was gaining momentum to kick my ass or threaten me with death. Whatever it was, I'd had enough. I am tired of being pushed around.

"You know Stephanie, I really worked myself up to come over here to threaten you. After the Fonzi comment though, I think I lost my nerve. My brother thinks you are something special. He really stuck up for you when we went and saw him. I have never seen him this protective over anyone before. I think he likes you a lot. Carlos doesn't like anyone a lot. That says something. It doesn't help that I actually like you. I don't have any idea how you get yourself into the mess you always do, but if there is anything I can do to help with Carlos, call me.

Carmen pulled out her keys.

"Did you know Carlos was in a relationship with Jeanne?" I asked.

She thought for a long moment. "Not really, no. Carlos keeps us at a distance. He will come over when he feels he should, but he is not exactly someone who hangs out at mom's house." She said. "But I remember her being around him for a long time. I think they were good friends."

It wasn't my place to burst that bubble. Maybe Jeanne was good for him in some ways. I didn't want her to feel differently about things that had happened. Past was past. And none of it was my business.

"Well, since I am not going to kick your ass anymore, I have things to do." She said.

She turned to me one more time. "You know, whatever you said to my mother, really made her happy. Thank you."

Carmen walked back around the corner and was gone. I took a deep breath. That had gone much better than I had expected.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The week rolled slowly by. I spent most of it at Rangeman. I hovered over the computer for hours each day searching out information about Jeanne. Nothing. It was as if she hadn't existed before her death. The rest of the time I spent thinking. I paced the floor, I went running at the park, I used the gun range and the gym. I felt like I was letting everyone down by hiding out and knocking my head against the wall. I wanted to talk to Ranger. He always made me feel stronger and more capable. He always knew what to do.

I went down to the police station twice. I wasn't allowed to see him. Only family and his lawyer could get in. I called the bonds office. Connie asked me to stop by. Vinnie wanted to talk to me about something but she didn't know what it was about. She'd tried a couple of times to call me, but the phone went to voice mail. She said there wasn't a whole lot of skips to pick up, but I should come in once in a while. She missed me, and mentioned that if I needed someone to talk to, I knew her number. I loved my friends, Connie was tops.

I checked my phone. Come to think of it, I hadn't heard it ring for a few days. I had five messages. The phone hadn't made a noise. I checked the ringer. It was off. I reluctantly called in to my voice mail. The first message was from my mother. She wanted to know why I hadn't called or come by. She said that her phone hasn't stopped ringing for over a week. First, about me shooting out the roof of the bonds office and then about me being involved in a murder. She said she was hoping this had nothing to do with me, especially if it was about the Manoso/Burrows case she kept hearing about. She told me to be a good daughter and call her once in a while so she didn't worry that I was dead in a ditch somewhere. I rolled my eyes. Jeez! I wondered if all mothers acted like that. The next message was also from her. She said I should come over Sunday. They were having a nice pot roast. My sister had some good news to share with the family and my grandmother needed to talk to me. She also said that I should bring along my new boyfriend she kept hearing about. She said it was nice to hear I was seeing someone new. I groaned. Yikes. If she knew it was Ranger, AKA the scary guy that came to dinner once, also known as AKA the Manoso man in the news, I don't think she would be as quick to invite him over for Sunday dinner.

The rest of the messages were from Joe Morelli. The first two were polite. He was asking if I would please call. I needed to come to the police station. He wanted to talk to me about what had happened the night of the murder. By the third message, he was a little tense. He sounded like he was talking to me from inside a tunnel. The date on the message, yesterday. He said he was outside Rangeman. The security guard at the entrance refused to let him in. He wouldn't let him leave a message either. Joe said Rangeman was a fortress. He sounded pretty pissed off. Joe also mentioned he was off the case, and he needed to get me in for the interview before they totally took him out of the game. When he hung up, he was swearing in Italian. I thought Joe could wait a little longer. I wasn't really sure there was anything I wanted to share with him anyway. It didn't matter to me if it was the cops or the FBI handling the case. I had a murder to solve.

I picked up the keys to Ranger's Porsche and I drove to the bonds office. I wanted to see what Connie could find out about "Tony the Tool". He was still an itch I couldn't scratch. It felt like he was part of this somehow.

Connie was hanging up the phone when I walked in to the office. She smiled when she saw it was me. "That was Lula." Connie said, exasperated. "She is skipping out on me again. I think her work ethics are way off."

"Maybe she's sick." I said, as I plopped down on the new leather couch. It was nice and soft. I think I could just hang out here for a while. Maybe I would throw some ideas at Connie about Jeanne. Maybe I could think better away from Rangeman. I grabbed an outdated issue of People from a stack of dog-eared magazines that sat on a wood coffee table. It was so outdated, David Hasselhoff was on the cover sporting his Baywatch shorts and no shirt. I started flipping through the magazine looking for something interesting to read.

"She is not sick. She is shacking up with that missile guy."

"The missile guy?" I was lost.

"You know, that guy that works with Ranger."

"You mean Tank?"

"Yeah, that's what I meant. What kind of name is Tank anyway?"

"It's a nickname. He's sort of built like a tank."

"I never thought of that." Connie said. "Well, I think he has a lot to do with her absenteeism. She's only been here three times this week. I might as well be working here alone! I told her not to tell anyone else that we will get them out of the pokey again, either. What a disaster. I should call her back, make her come in and fix the ceiling."

I looked up at the hole. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't know what else to do."

"The way I see it, you had no choice. I just froze. All those people came in at once, like a mob. It caught me off guard. If Lula had been here like she is supposed to be, it wouldn't have ended up like that."

"It could have ended up a lot worse if Lula was here, Connie. You might want to rethink that one."

"Well no matter what, I am going back to the gun range today after work; I froze up at the sight of all those angry people. I've never done that before. It's all this business suit crap. It's making me soft. The sooner I can turn this office back over to Vinnie, the better. I don't like all this responsibility. I was totally thrown off with the Michael Miller thing."

She stopped talking and looked towards the back door.

I heard a car pull up out back.

"Don't mention the ceiling. Vinnie hasn't seen it yet." She whispered.

I heard the backdoor shut. Vinnie walked in and stopped short. "What the hell happened to the ceiling?" He was looking up at the hole above Connie's desk.

Connie looked at me. "Here we go."

He gave Connie a menacing look. "Tell me that isn't a bullet hole!" Vinnie paused, taking a closer look. He raised his voice pointing up at the three-inch hole in the ceiling tile. "Tell me this isn't a bullet hole in my ceiling, Connie!"

"Ok, it's not a bullet hole in your ceiling." Connie's bubble gum popped as she looked at him.

"Christ! If that went through the roof, someone's gonna pay for it, and it aint gonna be me!"

He cast his sallow sleep deprived eyes my direction. "So, what happened?"

"What happened with what?" I said, flipping through the magazine trying to keep my head down.

Connie jumped in quickly before I had a chance to screw myself into owing him money for the roof. "We had a situation." She said. "For one thing, I am here alone in the morning. Who said you can come in anytime you like? We got a business to run. You need to be here when it opens."

He stared back at her. He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "You're not here alone. Stephanie's here. And..." he looked around, "Where's fatso? She is supposed to be here. It's your job to get her to come in now, not mine." He tapped his foot. "Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?"

"We decided not to bail out any of the skips again, right?" She said to Vinnie.

"Right. Fuck 'em. I'm sick of chasing around a bunch of douche bags."

"Well, Lula decided to bond out Michael Miller."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, word got out. Now everyone else wants equal treatment. What do we do? I've been telling them no. A big mob of people came in demanding we bail-out their loved ones because we bailed Miller out. I told them no way. When I did, it started getting out of control and a gun went off. I don't know what to do to keep these people from freaking out on us."

Vinnie thought about it for a moment. "That's easy, I got a solution. Next time anyone comes in with papers on a double skip, you tell them "no problem". Then write the bond, but make sure you tell them there will be a twenty percent markup fee because they are a risk. Every time we have to come get them, the price goes up."

Vinnie smiled. "What's good about it is that half of the people we picked up won't be eligible for bail anyway. At least forty percent of the ones that are, won't be able to come up with the extra dough. We look like the good guys, and no one gets hurt."

"I guess that would work." Connie said.

"Course it will work. How do you think we've stayed in business this long?"

Vinnie slid his oily stare at me, pointing his long, thin finger my direction. "You owe me two hundred bucks." He put his hand out.

I pointed back to myself. "Me?" I feigned innocence. I didn't have two hundred bucks. If I did, I wouldn't give it to him.

"Yeah, you. My team found all the skips on our list, first round. You had one left. You never picked up Bernie."

I had been concentrating on things that mattered. I had totally forgotten about the bet and the two hundred big ones. Damn it! My appointment with Mr. Alexander was tomorrow. Crap. I had forgotten about that too. "Bernie who?" I tried to act dumb. I had taken Bernie Horowitz file and slid it into Vinnie's pile for the second round of skips we were working on. He was Grandma Mazur's boyfriend. I didn't want anything to do with picking him up.

"Bernie was in your first stack." He said, glaring at me with his little beady black eyes.

"What? No, He wasn't." I made my eyes open as wide as I could. It was a desperate, pathetic attempt to get myself out of this. I was a terrible liar. But I had to try.

"You see, Stephanie. That is what I hate about our family, especially Grandma Mazur. You're all sneaky. You get that from her. Your name was on that file, you used white out to cover it up. He was yours."

Shit! "Ok fine. I will give you the two hundred. You pick him up."

I'll find another way to pay for Mr. Alexander tomorrow. I have money coming in from all the work I did for the office. I can afford it now.

"Oh no, That's not how it works." Vinnie said happily. "You pick him up." He pointed at me again. "You still owe me the two hundred clams. It was a bet, you lost. Plus, Bernie plays cards with me and the boys. I can't pick him up."

"He plays cards with you? Pick him up after the game. It would be easy."

"No can do. Bernie is having a good streak of bad luck. It would be unwise of me to pick him up when he's paying out. Plus, the boys would have my head. I can't do it."

"What a guy!" I said. "And, you're full of crap. Bernie is broke. He told me so."

"Ha! You see, I knew you were lying about Bernie!"

I slid further into the leather couch. Damn. I was caught. "Well, I don't want him. It's not right to take Grandma's boyfriend away from her. I'm not doing it. Give me one good reason that you can't just pick him up."

"Ok, fine." Vinnie said. "How's this for a good reason. Grandma Mazur threatened to take me out of the will if I took him in. And Bella, she threatened me with that eye thing. I don't need any more bad luck. He's yours. You can't pawn your crap off on me."

"Couldn't Santos and Nick pick him up? I don't want him."

"No. As a matter of fact they can't. You know why?"

I was positive he didn't care if I wanted to know why or not, he was going to tell me.

"Cause your boyfriend screwed everything up. Sebring called and asked for them back. I just got them trained and poof! He takes them back. He said he has a gaping hole in his time card since Jeanne was killed. We're both blaming Ranger for this, by the way. He's good for it. I don't even care why. I'm pissed. The only real bounty hunter on the payroll is in jail for whatever stupid love triangle he had going on. It's down to you and me doing the pickups, Sweet Cakes."

Great, I was hoping to slowly remove myself from bond enforcement. I was thinking the job at Rangeman would be a nice change. I can't leave when it's just Vinnie doing the take downs. Which reminded me, I had almost forgotten about what Mary had said. His attitude made it all come back.

"What is Joyce doing back in town?" I said looking at him as casually as I could, but I was scowling inside. The thing with the website still chewed at my subconscious. I was trying to hold back. I was waiting for Ranger's lawyer to look into it. I had to act calm. Joyce being back in Trenton was like a thorn in my foot.

Vinnie's mouth dropped open at the mention of her name. His face paled. Maybe he felt the same way I did.

"Joyce? She's in Scottsdale." Vinnie looked at Connie. "She is, right?"

"Nope." Connie said. "She's back. She came in here the other day, I thought you knew."

Vinnie swallowed hard. "What did she want?"

"Beats me. She came in and took pictures, then left."

"Huh." Vinnie was quiet. "I didn't know she was back."

He looked lost for a moment. I looked at Connie. She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes turning back to her nail polish.

He looked back at me. "You owe me two hundred big ones. Bring in Bernie. He's yours."

Vinnie walked into the back office. I burned a hole in his back with my stare as I watched him walk off.

"I wonder what that's about?" Connie said. "Vinnie doesn't usually go white at the mention of that tramp. He usually looks all flustered when she is around. This is new."

I waited till the door shut. "When did you let that slime ball take over the back office?"

"I didn't, he just did it anyway. It's ok. Like I said before, the sooner the better. I want out of the business suit."

I sat on her desk, contemplating my next move.

"Do you think it's possible that Tony the Tool took out Jeanne Ellen?"

Connie opened the top drawer of the desk and picked out another one of her niece's nail polish and shook it up. "It's possible that he was here for her. I don't know what the hell she could have done to piss off the mob though. Wasn't she Les Seabring's baby bonds girl?"

"Yes, but she had some other deals going on too. She was working for the FBI."

"You're kiddin' me, like a spy or something?"

"I think more like an informant."

"Informants are spies. Maybe she was like James Bond."

I shrugged. I doubted anyone was as cool as James Bond, but she was pretty close. "I talked to a guy that said Jeanne was always on someone's hit list. A lot of people wanted her dead."

"Then it could be possible that Tony was in Trenton for her. I know he wasn't here for you."

I looked seriously at Connie. "I need to know if he got his mark."

"I'll see what I can find out, but I haven't heard anything. All I've heard so far is that Ranger's good for popping Jeanne. Who ever shot her was a pretty good shot, too. Right between the eyes." She put her index finger up to her forehead for an effect I didn't need. I already knew most of the grisly details. "I haven't heard anything about Tony for weeks. I thought he must have left."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I picked up Bernie's file from her desk and shoved it in my bag. "Do you think Ranger did it?"

She looked at me. "Ranger? Personally, I don't think he's that stupid. He has worked here a long time. He doesn't do stuff like that."

I wish more people felt that way.

I walked back to the car. Bernie Horowitz's file was burning a hole in my pocketbook. Only a week left. I had to pick him up. And what was worse, parked behind the Porsche was an ugly Crown Vic. I groaned. It was Joe.

He was leaning on his car, talking on his cell phone. I stopped short before he saw me. I knew he would have questions about the information I had given him. I just didn't know if I was ready to share. I wanted to have more evidence to support another shooter before talking to the police. Before I got a chance to sidestep into a back alley, he spotted me. Damn! He used his index finger to motion for me to come over. I looked down, trying to figure a way out of this. I walked up to him ready to give him some lame excuse. He gave me the one finger wait signal.

I shrugged my shoulders and leaned next to him against his car. I listened intently to his conversation. He was arguing with someone. It reminded me of when he argued with me. It was in the same tone and context. I bet it was Trisha. He was talking to her in a low voice, trying to get her to understand something. He saw me listening and he walked towards the back of the car away from me. I edged a little closer, wanting to hear.

Joe hadn't learned much. That tone he was using on her, never calmed me down. The conversation abruptly ended when I heard him say "Hello? Hello!?" He swore under his breath and threw the phone into the car. His attention was now focused on me.

He folded his arms and heaved a great sigh. "You've been avoiding my phone calls."

"No, my ringer was turned off. I didn't know it. I got your messages this morning. If it makes you feel any better, my mother is also mad I haven't returned any calls."

He glanced at the Porsche. "Is that the newest present ?" His tone was teetering on "jerk".

"No, It's a loaner. You still have my Jeep in custody."

"The Jeep is evidence in a murder investigation if you remember correctly. You should be happy. If you had it, it would probably be in car heaven by now."

I glared at him.

"What about the Buick?" he asked.

Now I folded my arms. "What about it? Are you my father?" This conversation was going south in a hurry. He knew how I felt about the Buick! The Buick was a monster. I had no intention of driving around in it again if I could help it. Now that I am back in Trenton, that little drawback was going to end. I would walk or use public transportation before I used the Buick. Hell, I'd learn to ride a skateboard for that matter. Why couldn't I use the Porsche? What business was it of his, anyway!

Joe held up his arms. "Ok, settle down. I was just asking."

I took a deep breath. I shouldn't let him get to me anymore. "So, what was so important you called me three times?"

"Did you listen to the messages?"

"Yes." Sorta

"Then you know."

"If this is about coming down to the station to answer questions, I'm busy right now. I'll come down later."

Joe reclined against the car. "You had lunch yet?"

"No." I looked at my watch, it was noon. I hadn't even thought about eating. My stomach woke up when he mentioned it. I heard it growl at me.

He leaned into the beat up Crown Vic and pulled out some paperwork. "Look, I will take you to lunch and you can answer all the questions for the investigation at Pinos. Deal?"

I thought about it for a moment. My stomach growled again at the mention of Pino's pizza. It was hard to resist.

Joe opened the passenger door for me. "I will even buy you a beer, and if you're nice, a meatball sub. It would get me off the hook, and make me look good at work too."

Now I was curious. "Off the hook with whom?"

Joe scratched his head. Mulling over what he had said. I could see it in the uncomfortable way he shifted around.

I smiled. "With Trisha?"

"Yeah, with Trisha. She seems to think Ranger isn't good for this, and she is pestering me to find out why you feel the same way without actually calling you up and inviting you over for coffee. Personally, I find you two having coffee together inside my house frightening."

Ha! I had an ally.

Pino's would be good, and it would get me out of finding Bernie for at least an hour. I could use a meatball sub to help me think. I took the keys to the Porsche out of my pocket. "I'll follow you over."

"Oh no. You'll change your mind and take off. I don't want to pound on the door at Rangeman again. The guard told me he would use force if I didn't quit. It's funny, usually they say they will call the cops, but since I am the cops, he had to have a new line."

I thought the security team at Rangeman was much more frightening than a cop being called to ask him to leave, But I let him go ahead with his dream.

I got in the car, and we motored over to Pinos. On the way, I called Rangeman. I asked Hal to have someone pick up the Porsche. I didn't want Rangers car to get stolen. I was trying to be more responsible.

Joe found an empty booth over in a corner away from other people. I watched him as he went up to the counter to order. He was sexy in his jeans and work shirt. There was not a whole lot to not like about Joe Morelli. I noticed at least three women at the bar felt the same way. He looked happy. He was sure of himself and in charge of his life. I doubted he was drinking antacid everyday now that we were not seeing each other. That was good. There was no doubt he was hot. A year. It had gone by so fast. As I watched him, I realized I was over pining for him and how much I loved Ranger. I hugged myself. I needed to end this bullshit and get him out of trouble. I had a chance to convince Joe that it was possible he didn't kill Jeanne Ellen. Especially if Trisha felt the same vibe I did. Ranger didn't do anything wrong except turn off the security system at Jeanne Ellen Burrows. This was my chance to make him believe it.

He brought two beers over to the table. He took the folder and dropped it on the table, slidding into the booth. Joe took a long drink of his beer and opened the file. "Ok," he said. "I am sharing this information with you because I know how you tick. You're not about to give me anything I can use unless I spill some facts for you. So here it goes. This is confidential." He looked at me to make sure I understood.

"We have security footage of Ranger, aka Carlos Manoso pulling up to Jeanne Ellen Burrows building the night in question. It shows him walking over to some kind of pole on the property and climbing it. Then the security tape goes blank."

"How did you get the tape?"

"We contacted her security company. They sent it to us. They said the system and her phones were out after that. It was all they had."

"Didn't the security company wonder why the cameras went off?"

"No." They said they were under contract with Miss Burrows only to record what happens at her residence. They did no monitoring of the tapes. It was the way she wanted it."

He placed a picture of a gun in front of me. It was sitting on a tile floor next to a numbered marker. The gun was black, and it looked like a Glock.

"This is the murder weapon. It is registered to Carlos Manoso of Rangeman Inc. Fingerprints on the gun match his. Fingerprints on the door also match his."

"What about the rest of the apartment. What other fingerprints did you find?"

Joe sat back. "None. We found some of Jeanne's in the other rooms of the house, but nothing in the bedroom."

I leaned forward toward him. "How can you be in a room and not leave fingerprints? There had to be some of Jeanne's in her room. Even if you clean, there will be something."

"That's the thing. We found nothing. Her fingerprints were in the bathroom, in the kitchen, and around her apartment. The bedroom was wiped clean."

"So your saying Ranger walked in and shot Jeanne Ellen Burrows. Wiped the entire room down, and then left his gun and his fingerprints on the door?"

He shrugged. "Maybe he panicked. Maybe he was so shocked he had done such a horrible thing, that he freaked and ran."

"After he wiped the scene down? Does that make any sense to you?"

Joe studied me for a moment. "No, it doesn't. We have Ranger's prints on the box that knocked out the security too."

"Yeah, you have testimony from him stating he did that. You have testimony from him about all of it except the murder and his gun."

"We have him at the scene. We have the murder weapon, we have his fingerprints. And we have motive."

"That's not enough. From what you just told me, he could fight this and win."

"Ok, how about this. We have a statement from Ranger saying he killed her."

I paused. My heart beat fast in my chest.

He shook his head. "Yeah."

"He didn't do it, Joe. He is devastated that he took out the security, he is blaming himself."

"Well that blame has him locked up and under surveillance. For a while, we almost put him on suicide watch."

That was a blow I wasn't expecting. Suicide watch? I sat back. "I want to see him."

"No can do, Cupcake. The FBI has informed us that they are taking the case. Only his lawyer is allowed in, at least for now."

"I need to get in to see him. Isn't there something you can do?"

"As romantic as that sounds, it is out of my hands."

I took a deep breath. "Ok, so what else do you have?" I asked.

He closed the folder. "Your turn. You need to tell me what you know."

Our meatball sandwiches arrived just in time. A pretty blond with big blue eyes leaned over as she put the sandwiches on the table. Joe didn't disappoint me; he looked right down her shirt just like I knew he would. She saw him do it and gave him a wink and sauntered off. He looked at me. "What?"

I opened my sub and started eating. I was hoping with food in my mouth, I wouldn't feel the need to slap him across the face. His girlfriend is pregnant with his kid and he is flirting with the waitress?

"They were right in front of me. It was a reaction!"

I wanted a moment to collect my thoughts, he was such a scoundrel sometimes. Instead of thinking about Joe being.. Well Joe. I thought about what he had said. Ranger had told them he killed her. Shit. He said Ranger was so devastated, that they almost put him on suicide watch. Ranger? It seemed impossible. I looked over. Joe was waiting. I took another bite of my meatball sub. Pino's made the best meatball subs. I tried hard to think only of the sandwich. It was so good. I wanted to get lost in thoughts of marinara sauce and spices. I chewed slowly. Joe moved the sandwich away from me. I finished my bite looking sadly at the sandwich. I took a long drink of my beer. He crossed his arms. He was growing impatient. He brought me here to eat, what did he think I was going to do?

I put the beer down. If I wanted his help, which I did. I would need to cooperate. "Ok, I know why the FBI is so interested in the case." I had his attention. "Jeanne Ellen was working for them."

Joe's eyebrows raised and he took a bite of his sandwich. "You know this, how?"

"I talked to a guy who worked with her."

"What? How did that happen? Did he just happen to run into you, and tell you all the information out of the goodness of his heart?"

"No, I asked a certain person to find someone in the FBI who would be willing to give me some information."

"So, you bribed an FBI agent?"

"I needed answers. I got them."

"How do you know he was really from the bureau, and what makes you think he was telling the truth?"

"I saw his shield. My source seemed pretty reliable. I don't think they would have sent me to a fake, and it adds up. I talked to one of the guys at Rangeman. He said they knew about it. Turns out, I could have just asked them."

Joe was stunned. "So what was she doing for the FBI? I thought she was working for Les Seabring?"

"Yeah well, she was. But, she was moonlighting for the bureau. According to my source, she had been doing it for a long time. I think the job for Les was more of a cover, than a career. She was an informant. From what he said, she was pretty much at the top of the Mafia's most wanted list. Everyone they sent after her ended up in a ditch somewhere."

"So she had a hit out on her?"

"If what that guy said was true, definitely. Jeanne Ellen didn't care. She watched her back. Usually picked them off before they had a chance to kill her."

"So, Ranger knew about this when he started seeing her? He knew she was an informant?"

"She was his mentor. She knew him when he was a kid. She would have him run surveillance for her, and he did some recon work for her too. She would use him to spy on people. Gangs, mob, or anyone she told him to look for. They have known each other for over twenty years."

"So Ranger gets his training from Jeanne to be the person he is today. I talked to his family. They believe Jeanne Ellen is some kind of saint that saved him from a life of crime. They also said he would never hurt her." Joe took another swig off his beer, finishing it. He motioned for the waitress to bring him another. "Want one?"

"Yes, thanks." I did want one. This conversation was turning personal. I didn't know how far I wanted it to go or how much it would help for him to know everything.

"What kind of childhood did he have then? He gets into trouble, and then he meets Jeanne Ellen, when he's what? What age would this have been?"

"Twelve or thirteen, I think."

"Christ, I was a bad kid at that age. No wonder his mom thinks Jeanne is a saint."

I rolled my eyes. A saint. Yeah, in a molester Catholic priest sort of way. I took the last drink of my beer and picked at the sandwich. Joe was studying me. I could feel his eyes.

"You don't think she was doing a good thing?"

"No, I don't. I think she involved him in things that could have gotten him killed. I don't think she cared if she did. I think she would have moved on to someone else if he disappeared one day."

"But she did get him away from a bad life. The street pulls you in. It may start out as simple stuff, petty theft because it's easy pickings, then you start hitting up harder targets till you're too stupid to stop. You may get picked up, thrown in juvy, but then you can pretty much assume someone you know will be in there with you, and you make contacts. Pretty soon, jail isn't such a bad thing. You get deeper and deeper into it till it is a way of life. I think she did a good thing, getting him out of it when she did. It sounds like he was heading down a dangerous path and she stopped it."

He opened the file and flipped a few pages. "He enlisted in the army at seventeen. Looks like she pushed him in the right direction. It was a recommendation from family members, and from her that got him in. So his mentor turned into his lover when he got out of the service?"

I looked at him. "No."

"What do you mean, "No?"

"I mean how else do you turn a thirteen year old kid away from his hoodlum ways and get him to fly straight when you are as stubborn as Ranger is?"

Joe looked at me for a moment. "Is this confirmed?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"So, he was seeing her for over twenty years? Sweet Jesus. Thirteen years old. Holy crap. She was what? In her twenties?" He smiled. "Shit. It's like a wet dream for a thirteen year old kid."

"Its statutory rape, Joe."

"Yeah, but shit. Can you imagine the things I could have learned with that kind of…"

My eyes were burning holes in his. "Think of it this way, your niece is about thirteen. How would you feel if a grown man started sleeping with her?"

"His smile turned to a frown. She's just a little girl. She still plays with Barbies and shit. Ok, that's more than a little messed up. Let's move along."

He looked back at the paperwork. "So, lets move back to the present. He starts seeing you, and that is when the trouble starts with Jeanne Ellen?"

"The moment we came back to Trenton. She was on his jock."

"You were with him in Scottsdale?" His voice broke a little when he said it.

I took a deep breath. "No. Well, yeah sort of. I was in Scottsdale."

I stopped for a moment. The cabin was off the map. I wanted it to stay that way.

"He was somewhere else. I hadn't heard from him since I had left Trenton. Then, I had all this drama happen at the office in Arizona. Tank came and picked me up. Ranger sent him. He wanted me out of Arizona because it wasn't safe anymore."

"Ok. So where were you when we were on the conference call? It looked like a cabin or safe house or something."

I leaned in. "It was like a safe house."

"Where was it? In Arizona?"

"It's a secret, and it doesn't matter."

"I thought you were still in Scottsdale."

"Ranger can't go to Arizona. He has legal trouble there."

"Legal trouble? So where were you?"

I looked at him closely for a moment. "The Batcave."

Joe grunted. "Really?" He smiled. "Okay, whatever. So when did the trouble happen with Jeanne, let's get back to that."

"When we came back to Trenton. She knew we were back. She started harassing him and then me."

"Explain. How did she harass you? What do you mean?"

"She stole my battery the night I found the dead guy in the dumpster at your baby congratulations party. Ranger had to come over and replace it."

"How did you know it was her?"

"Because Ranger said it was. He came clean and told me that she would have problems with him ending things with her."

"Ok. So then what happened?"

"She got mad, and she broke into Rangeman. We had to call the police to get her out of there."

He opened the file. "That explains this." He reviewed a police report about the night Jeanne had to be taken out of the building.

"Who called the police?"

"Tank or Hal probably called. Tank thought it was the best idea. We didn't want any problems."

"Why didn't Ranger make that decision? I thought he was into all that control shit."

"That's a personal question. I called Tank, they took care of it."

Joe focused on me for a moment. All kidding was aside now. "It was that personal, all this with her, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was. He cares deeply for her."

"What happened that night she got murdered?"

"Off the record?"

"Yeah, this is all off the record, just tell me what the fuck happened."

"I went bowling with Mary Lou. We went to the bowling alley off Third. She goes there a lot with Lenny. She wanted to know what was up with me and what had been happening in my life. It had been a year. We needed to catch up. We stayed till closing."

"When was that?"

"About two in the morning. When we came out of the bowling alley, my Jeep was gone."

"Did you call the police?"

"No, I knew who took my Jeep. I knew it was Jeanne Ellen."

"So who did you call?"

"I called Rangeman dispatch, they told me to call Ranger."

"Did you think that was strange? Is he usually up at two in the morning?"

"A little strange, yeah. Ranger works days. He should have been asleep."

"So what happened? Did you call?"

"Yeah. I did. He answered. He said he knew where the Jeep was, someone would come pick me up. He said that this was something he needed to deal with, and that he might as well do it now. Then, he said he loved me."

"Did he sound angry?"

"No. He sounded normal, a little sad."

"Did you worry he would do something stupid?"

"Ranger doesn't really do stupid. I have seen him angry, but he doesn't do stupid things. He is always in control. The guy doesn't eat sugar. I mean, that's control as far as I'm concerned."

"So what is your take on what happened?"

"The way I see it, Ranger went in and told her it was over. He left. When he did, someone else came in and shot her. Pure and simple."

"What about the gun?"

"When he was inside, the guy went and took it out of my Jeep."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because that's not Ranger's gun. Ranger's gun looks different. That gun was probably under the seat in my Jeep. Did you find a gun when you searched the Jeep?"

"No. There was a place for one, though. We figured either you had it, or it was never there to begin with."

"It was there. Ranger has his own guns in his car. Why would he go to the Jeep and take mine to blow Jeanne away?"

"Maybe he wanted the significance of it being your gun."

"It wasn't my gun, it was a Rangeman gun. I have a Sig. There was no reason for Ranger to take that gun."

Joe leaned back in the seat. "Did you see him when you got back that night?"

"Hal picked me up and told me Jeanne had disabled the security at the building and had them running around like ants. He said Jeanne was a thorn. After we dropped Mary Lou off, we went back to Rangeman, but I didn't see Ranger. I was told he hadn't checked in. He wasn't back yet."

"Did you go to sleep?"

"No. I stayed up and tried to wait for him to get home."

"When did he get home?"

"Sometime the next morning. That is what he told me. I fell asleep at the gun range."

"They have a gun range at Rangeman?"

"Yeah, and a gym too."

"So what time was it when you woke up?"

"Ranger woke me up. It was about noon."

"He didn't get home till noon?"

"He told me he had gotten home earlier, but he let me sleep."

"How sweet of him."

I rolled my eyes. "You want me to finish or not?"

"Yes. So what happened? Did he tell you how the night went?"

Yeah, He told me he disabled the security and walked in on Jeanne Ellen. She was waiting for him. He said she knew he would come for the Jeep. He told me she was naked."

"Did they have sex?"

"He said no."

He looked at the report. "He was telling the truth, it doesn't say Jeanne had intercourse before she died. So they just talked?"

"He said he told her to back off, to leave us alone. He told her if she didn't, he would make sure everyone knew what a sexual deviant she was. He told me he left her there and she was very much alive. Ranger was happy, smiling when he told me. He said it felt really good to tell her to fuck off."

"What did he say happened?"

I touched the heart pendant around my neck. I held onto it. "He told me he got in the car and started driving. He needed to clear his head. He said he drove all the way to New York and he bought me this pendant."

Joe looked at it closely. "It's beautiful. He has good taste."

I looked down. "It was an important and personal moment for both of us. How could a man kill someone and then go buy his girlfriend a present like this?"

"People are strange, Stephanie. You never know. But it doesn't really fit, does it?"

I nodded. "No, it doesn't."

He paused for a moment. He pushed his sandwich away, and took a drink of his beer.

"Ok, so." He opened the folder. "From that point, we are basically up to date. The body is found, we immediately have a murder weapon and fingerprints within hours. We arrest Ranger; he confesses that he killed her. Then, you alert me to the possibility that she is pregnant, and that Jeanne has a secret girlfriend who tells you that Jeanne had a boyfriend. Mary Maggie confirmed all this, as impossible as it all was, and also claims that the boyfriend probably wasn't Ranger. At least she didn't think it was. We got the report back, she was pregnant. DNA is still unconfirmed as to whose baby it was."

My heart pounded. She was pregnant. What if I was wrong and the baby was his? I felt sick.

Joe reached across the table and took my hand in his. It was warm. It felt good and reassuring. He squeezed it. "He means a lot to you doesn't he?"

Tears started welling up in my eyes. "He does, Joe. He means everything. I have to fix this."

"What if you can't? What if he's guilty?"

I looked at him, at his face. He was so unsure of Ranger's innocence, even after our conversation. "He's not. Joe." I thought about what Ranger had said to me at the cabin. Ranger had said "I'm not working with doubt, Babe." I took a deep breath.

He squeezed my hand again, and looked deep into my eyes. "If he means this much to you, I will do what I can to find out who did this. You deserve to be happy, Steph."

We sat there for a moment. He looked at his watch. "I'm late. Do you want a ride somewhere?"

I shook my head. "No thanks. I think I will sit here for a little while. I need to think."

Joe got up and paid the tab for the food and walked out. I put my head on the back of the booth. I felt tired. I kept picturing Ranger sitting in jail, furious that someone had taken someone away from him, keeping him from his life. I had to do something.

I called Lula to pick me up in front of Pino's. Soon, I heard the thumping of the bass, it was distant, but I knew it was her. A pearl white Firebird pulled up in front of me. The car was a step up from the red one that blew up a few years before, but there was no denying that it was Lula. She kept the car immaculate. The tinted glass window slid down, and the music blasted out. I covered my ears.

She looked at me funny, turned the stereo down and unlocked the door. "Why am I pickin' your ass up this time?" She said as I opened the door. "Where is your Jeep? Don't tell me something happened to it." She picked up a diamond studed animal print piece of fabric from the seat so I could sit down. "I even got a sparkly do-rag to wear to make me look good when the top is off."

"My Jeep is evidence." I said sliding into the passenger seat. "I had lunch with Joe. He wanted to ask me questions about Jeanne Ellen's murder."

She clicked her lips together. "Jeanne Ellen deserved to die. You can't walk around every day looking like catwoman. Shit is going to find you."

"I don't think anyone deserves to die." I said.

"Well no, but she was too hot. I wanted to shoot her a few times myself. Burst her bubble. Humph!"

She Looked back at me. "So, Joe just left you here? What is wrong with him? He is all kinds of rude."

"I didn't want to ask him for a ride home. It would have been.. weird."

"Why? Why would it have been weird?"

I sighed. Did I really need to explain this? "Because he has a girlfriend, and she's pregnant. I don't want her to think that he is cheating on her or something." I paused, thinking about it. "I don't know, pregnant women are weird. I would be pissed if I was pregnant and he was taking his ex to lunch. He needs to have some boundaries." I winced. I used Ranger's word. Did I really feel that way? I guess I did.

"Boundaries?" She said, looking at me confused and surprised at my attitude.

"Like drawing a line in the sand." I told her. "Don't cross that line. You know, boundaries."

I tried to pretend I had thought that one up all by myself. Ranger made it seem like it was a plausible thing. I almost believed him.

"Well, I don't need no boundaries marked in any sand. No man is gonna tell Lula who she can and can't see… Humhp."

I looked at her for a moment. "If you found out Tank took his ex-girlfriend to lunch, you're saying it wouldn't bother you?"

"Hell ya it would bother me. But, still. Ok. I get your point. Where are you taking me to eat? Don't even say Pino's. I am not about to eat here anytime soon. No way. The dead guy thing is still giving off the cootie vibe around here. I'm starving too!"

I groaned. I just finished eating. Maybe I would just get dessert. One thing for sure, I could always rely on Lula to keep everything from getting deep.

Lula decided she wanted Mexican food. We went to Federico's. It was the closest thing we had to a real Mexican cantina, and I liked the margaritas. Since I wasn't driving, I had one. Lula got down to business. She wanted to know what in the hell had happened after I had dropped her off the other night. I went from Ranger getting arrested to the talk with Carmen, to the interview, Mary Maggie and all. I was tired of repeating myself, and I was hoping that it would be a long time before I had to regurgitate it all again.

"Damn girl." Lula said, raising her eyebrows. "Nothing like Stephanie Plum back in Jersey. I knew it had to be real crazy shit going on. Tank's been acting really strange."

"Strange how?"

Lula's eyes got big and she leaned over the table to me. "I think he's going to propose."

I sat back in my booth. "Lula, remember what happened last time?"

"No, for real this time. I mean last time I thought it was real, but no. Listen to this. He came over last night. He was actin' all fidgety."

"All fidgety?"

"Nervous. You know, uncomfortable."

"Yeah, but Lula look at what just happened. The whole business is up in the air."

"Yeah, I know all that, this was different. So he sits down, right?"

"Ok, right."

"He starts asking me all these questions." Her eyes are wide, and she is serious.

"What kind of questions?"

"Relationship questions." She said sitting back, and taking a drink.

"Like?" This was interesting, and it sounded real. Last time Lula had Tank believing he proposed to her. It was a mess. This sounded different.

"Well, like if we ever did get married, where would I want the wedding to be? Then he asked me about my family."

Ok, she had my attention. "He said that to you?"

"Yeah. He also said that he didn't know if he wanted kids. That was easy since the doctor said I couldn't probably anyway. Then he asked me if I really was serious about getting married."

I was flummoxed, to put it mildly. "So, what happened?"

She sighed. "He got a call from Rangeman. Stupid assholes. They couldn't find something. They needed him to get them something or other. I don't know. But before he left, he kissed me. Like really kissed me, then he said he would come back if he could, and he left."

"This was last night?"

"Yeah. I don't know what to think. I don't want to get all freaked out about it. Remember what happened last time?"

"You need to keep me calm. Maybe he was just thinking out loud."

"Maybe, but, It sounded like more than that. I just don't know. Maybe he is freaking out over all this Ranger shit. I decided I am not going to go out picking dresses this time. No way. The last one was expensive. I ended up selling it to a transvestite. I got a good price, though."

"Well, what about your family, Lula? Are they here in town?" I had never asked her. I actually knew very little about her.

She thought about it. "I don't know. I was an orphan. I never told you that?"

I shook my head "no". She had never told me that. Wow! An orphan. I was feeling kinda crappy for never asking.

"I grew up at Lakeside Children's Home. I think my mom was a crackhead." She said looking over the menu like it was no big deal.

I had no idea Lula was at Lakeside. I thought about Tank. Maybe everything that had happened made him think about his future. It would be nice if something good came out of all this.

"So what's next?" Lula asked after she ordered. "Where do you go from here? How are you going to get that man of yours out of trouble?"

I hadn't a frickin' clue. Everything was up in the air. I shrugged, and looked out the window. I'm really not sure."

"You know it's up to you." Lula said. "No one else is really looking, if you ask me. Until you shove it in their faces, they don't even check on clues. I think the police want it to be Ranger."

The police don't have control of it anymore, the Feds do."

"The FBI? Shit girl, more of a reason to find out more on your own, The FBI is as slow as molasses."

I want to go talk to Les Seabring." I said as the waitress came by and gave us a basket of chips and some salsa. We started digging in.

"Les with the Legs, Les?" Lula said between mouthfuls of dipped chips.

"Yeah." I nodded. "He worked with her for a really long time. He may have an idea of who her doctor might be, and maybe he would know something about her. If she was that dedicated to her job, someone should know her. He might know who was seeing her. Someone has to know something. You can be secretive, but you still make mistakes."

We sat and ate in silence, both of us deep in thought. Lula had just had a life changing event happen to her, and I had a murder to solve. To say we had a lot to think about was an understatement.

"Lula, did you know that Joyce was trying to get a book deal?" I pushed the chips away from me. If I kept eating, I would need to buy the next size up in jeans. "She wants to write a self-help manual for future bounty hunters. Tell them what to do and not to do. She wants to use my exploits and takedowns to show people what not to do."

"Are you serious?" Lula said, wiping salsa off her shirt. "That woman has balls. She really does. Why does she love to pick on you so much?"

"I always wondered that." I said. Maybe I stole her boyfriend in the 3rd grade, or maybe she just has chemistry in her body that despises me. Whatever the reason, that woman is a disease. "I was talking to Mary Maggie at the book store." I continued. "She said we should steal her ideas and write our own manual. She said she would help us."

The food came, and Lula dug in. "I always wanted to write a self-help book. 'Course, I always thought it would be about things I knew more about, like sex. Now sex, that would be the book I could write." She said with authority in her voice. "We could wing the bounty hunting thing. We would have lots of tips for the "What not to do" part. It's the "what to do" that we need assistance." I think we should do it." She was excited now.

Lula's cell rang. It was Tank. When she hung up she was smiling ear to ear. I was glad they were hitting it off. Me, I wanted my Jeep back. I wanted my happy ending, damn it. She said Tank was going over to her place. We motioned for the waitress and she got a box for her food. I wanted her to drop me off at the police station. I had her stop at Paulo's Sports Bar on the way, and I ordered a large order of hot wings.

When I walked in the station, Eddie was working the front desk.

I sauntered over to him. He smiled at me, but it was guarded. "I want my Jeep. You guys can't keep it anymore."

I had to think of a reason.

"It's against the law to hold onto it." (Yeah, that's it.)

I dropped the box of hot wings on the counter. I could see his nose twitch at the smell of fresh warm hot wings. I knew I caught him at the right time.

He looked at the box. "Are those what I think they are?"

"You get my Jeep released, these are all yours."

"From Paulo's?" He looked around for a moment. "Ok Stephanie. Let me see if they are finished with it." He picked up the phone.

I knew Paulo's had the best wings in Trenton. I also knew they were Eddie's all time favorite, and something his wife would not let him eat anymore. Within minutes, a man came down from the second floor. He handed me the keys.

"We called the bonds office, and left a message that we didn't need it anymore. I wondered why it was still sitting here." He said.

I took the keys from his hand. I instantly felt free to do whatever the hell I wanted to. Hot damn! I loved my Jeep. It was mine. It was shiny. And it had a warranty. I almost skipped out of the station. My next stop was back to the office. I was curious. I wanted to see if Connie had gotten a message from the police yesterday about the Jeep. I really think she would have told me if she had.

My phone rang. I looked down at the display and cringed. It was my mother. I debated letting it go to voice mail. I thought about Lula and Tank, and my happy ending. I let it ring.


	17. Chapter 17

Sunday was fast approaching. My mother had called and invited me over for dinner. I had an obligation to her. It was more like a moral clause. Especially since she called and left a message. I would be a terrible daughter if I didn't show up. There was an incentive to dinner on Sunday. That incentive was Bernie. It was possible that he would come over with my Grandmother. She loved showing off her boyfriends. He might not even have a choice. Grandma is pretty pushy when she wants to be. I needed Bernie, and I missed the dinners on Sunday with my family. It would be nice to have some normalcy in my life.

I knocked again on Betty Trujillo's door. She was FTA. I was up early. I jogged past her house when I got myself motivated enough to exercise. I knew the house, it was the only one on the street that not only had a picket fence, but a gnome on the porch. I had never seen anyone come in or out. I figured the person who lived here must go out-of-town a lot. Connie had handed me Betty's file when I was at the office and I hadn't even looked at it. It would be an easy pick up, and I needed a distraction. I was having trouble sleeping. Trying to find out who killed Jeanne was corrupting my sleep patterns. Finally four a.m. showed its ugly face on Ranger's clock and I went for a run. Betty's light was on when I passed by. I got back to RangeMan, jumped in the Jeep and came back. The light was still on, and I heard movement inside the house. Maybe she was a night owl. It was possible she slept during the day. I heard shuffling towards the door and I knew someone was looking out the peep-hole at me. I waived hello to whoever it was.

"Hello, anyone home?" I used my friendly voice. It was close to five in the morning now, and it was getting lighter outside. Less threatening.

"What do you want?" A brittle voice called though the door.

"I need to speak to Betty Trujillo."

The door opened no more than a crack. No security chain, I noticed. I guess I didn't look scary in my Nike tee and sweats.

"I'm Betty. What is this about?"

"Stephanie Plum." I said, holding out my hand to shake hers. Her hand came out the door and she shook mine hesitantly. This is also a way to get people to open the door wider, giving you more access to them when you tell them what you need to do. "I represent the bond company "Plum Bail Bonds". You missed your court date. I need to bring you to the station to reschedule."

"My court date?"

"Yes."

I stood there waiting. She had a blank look on her face.

"My court date is next Tuesday."

She turned from the door and I looked down at the paperwork. If this is another of Connie's screw ups... I looked at the date of the court appearance. No, Connie was right. It said right here in black and white, "failure to appear". I looked up and into the barrel of a shotgun. I could smell gunpowder. It had recently been fired. Not good. Not good at all. I went cross-eyed trying to focus on the tip. I backed away.

"I aint goin' to jail. I aint payin' no tickets neither. This is America. I can park where I want. I can drive as fast as I want, and no court, police officer, or little girl is going to tell me otherwise. Understand?" She looked at me through the sight of the gun, her finger shaky on the trigger. It was loaded and ready. I was sure of it. I took a slow and careful step backwards, almost tripping on the gnome. I looked down for a moment. The gnome was smiling. I looked back up at Betty. My hands were up, as if it would stop a bullet.

"Ok." I said. My heart was beating fast. Adrenaline was pumping, giving me the extra power needed to dodge if I needed to, or what my body believed it could dodge. She lowered the gun, taking a step back into her house and slowly she shut the door. The moment I heard the door lock click, I turned and ran towards the Jeep. Once inside I sat there shaking, trying to breathe. I flipped through her arrest record. She only had speeding and parking tickets. Nothing was here about shooting or killing anyone. Holy crap! I wasn't expecting that. She looked so nice. I would need another approach, and a flak jacket, maybe some backup.

I glanced again at the house. Small cottage, sweet looking grandmotherly lady. White picket fence, flowers and a garden. She even had the tan Ford Taurus with the "Sam's Club" sticker in the window. Nothing here suggested "Insane". Well, maybe she wasn't insane. Maybe she just really didn't want to pay her tickets. I hated to pay tickets, too. When I entered my golden years, I wondered if I would go as far as pulling a shot-gun. I might. It didn't change the fact that I needed to pick her up and bring her in, but not before breakfast. I put the file down and motored back to RangeMan.

Ramon had left a folder for me. It was lying on the table in Ranger's apartment next to the computer. In it were the images we had taken of the Jeep. When I had gotten the Jeep back, I wanted to take pictures of the places it had been fingerprinted. We took the Jeep up to the roof of the building to get the light. First, I took pictures of every angle of the Jeep, then all the areas the police had found fingerprints.

When we were done, Ramon wanted to have the Jeep refitted with a new gun, alarm and tracking device. He said the other one was too simple to disable. I brought the pictures into Ranger's bedroom and dropped them on the bed. I laid down and shut my eyes. I started doing scenarios in my head about how I could have handled Betty Trujillo differently. When I looked at the clock again it was already eight.

My appointment with Mr. Alexander was at ten. I couldn't blow it off or he would never see me again. I rolled out of bed dropping the file on the floor. The pictures flayed out. I sat down and started putting them back in the folder looking at each one. The door to the Jeep probably had been locked, I thought. I looked at the images of the Jeep door and the dust around the keyhole. Someone could have jimmied it. I know I had locked it at the bowling alley. Would she have locked it at her apartment? Probably. That would mean the killer either had a key, or they also jimmied the lock. I looked at the ignition. It didn't look tampered with. Did Jeanne have a key to the Jeep? Maybe she had some device that would unlock doors, but it was highly unlikely she would be able to get the Jeep started without destroying the ignition. So how did she get the Jeep to start without a key, or better yet, where did she get a spare key? I thought about the apartment the night we had her arrested. She could have taken a spare key then. I got up and started searching for the extra key. I looked everywhere. I couldn't find it. It was missing. That explained how Jeanne got into my car. So the killer would have been the only one that would have had to break in, unless they also had a key.

I went back into the bedroom and looked at the next picture. It was of the holster that had been under the driver's side seat of the jeep. I also looked at the side view of the vehicle trying to see the killer reaching in and getting the gun. How did they know there would be a gun under the seat? It's a lot to go through, breaking in to look for a weapon, unless you already knew there was one. It is hard to see unless you know where it is. You can't see it from a casual walk up to a car. The holster itself looks like a part of the undercarriage. It is the obvious spot most people use to hide guns, but it has a key code. Just one button, but a code none the less. You would need to know what it is. For me, they put the code as nine. If you hit the wrong button three times, it locks up and you cannot retrieve the gun at all. An alarm goes back to RangeMan and they have to reset it from there to make it accessible. Next to the gun was a club and a knife. Small but useful. In case you panic and lock the gun in, you at least have something to defend yourself with. I looked and saw they were still in place. I wondered if the alarm for the code went off that night.

I called downstairs. Ramon answered the phone. "Did RangeMan get an alarm for the Jeep's arsenal the night Jeanne was killed?"

"We already checked. No. Nothing came in."

"Where does RangeMan keep all the codes for the gun locks?"

"They are in the computers here. We can get access to them from any of the computer data bases on site. If someone calls in to have one reset, it can be done quickly."

"What are the chances that the lock was not set in the Jeep?"

"Not possible. It's always on."

"What about if the battery on the car was disabled?"

"It does not run on the main battery power."

"So, there is no way that someone could access the gun without either knowing the code or guessing correctly before the alarm went off?"

"That's what I am saying, yes."

I said thanks and hung up. The only way someone would know the code was if they had access to the computers at RangeMan, or Ranger did it himself. Or it was pure luck that the code was put in correct before the third try. Jeanne could have disabled the alarm and took the gun with her, but why would she. What would her reason have been? She was not only in possession of a lot of weapons, but also she wasn't afraid of Ranger, and he had his own weapons. I didn't think Jeanne took the gun out. If she had, she would have also taken the club and the knife.

I took the pictures and notes and placed them back on the bed. My cell phone started ringing. I looked at the screen. It was my mother. I had blown her off yesterday. I couldn't do that again. I would need to explain myself.

Fifteen minutes later, my mother had successfully locked me in for Sunday's pot roast with the family. She was making me bring dessert. Unless you are dead and in the ground, I don't think you could blow that kind of request over at my mother's house. I had no choice. Sunday was on. I was responsible for making sure the entire night didn't crash and burn. I was also reminded that Albert had food allergies. Nothing with peanuts would do unless I wanted to see him blow up like a balloon. Mary Alice didn't like strawberries. Valerie would eat anything I put in front of her, so nothing to fattening, and my father doesn't like vanilla ice cream. I was hoping there wasn't anything I was forgetting. I would need to be there by six or everything would be ruined.

"I almost forgot," she said before hanging up. "Mrs. Gentry said that you have been seeing someone. Her son Fred told her that you were acting pretty friendly towards someone at Joe's Party."

Time stood still. She had mentioned in her message that she knew I was seeing someone. I hadn't had time to think what I would tell her yet. My mind raced for something worthy to say.

"Hello, Stephanie? Stephanie?"

What should I tell her? Should I tell her yes, I have been seeing someone? Or should I take the cowards way out and tell her no. That Mrs. Gentry must be mistaken. Eee...

"Yes?"

"Yes, you have been dating someone? Or yes, you are answering me?"

"I have been seeing someone, Yes." All my fingers wanted to do, was hang the phone up. I closed my eyes and willed them to quit twitching toward the off button.

"Oh, how nice! Is it someone new? Are you bringing him Sunday? I will set out an extra plate!"

"No. No, and don't bother."

"What? What is that suppose to mean? What is, 'No. No, don't bother?'"

I took a deep breath.

"No, it's not someone new. No, I am not bringing him Sunday, and don't bother with the plate. He can't make it."

Now, I got silence from the other end. My mother whispered. "Stephanie, don't tell me you are dating that friend of yours!"

Ok, that could mean many people.

"I have a lot of friends. He is one of them."

Now, I hung up. I didn't know where to go from there. I think Ranger scared the crap out of my mother. He is too hot, and he looks dangerous sometimes. Especially the few times he came over with me to my parent's house. The one thing I had going for me is that she didn't know his real name was Manoso. She would soon enough. I am almost positive she is putting two and two together right now. Crap.

I trudged into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. I loved Ranger's shower. It was the perfect way to take my mind off everything. The water pressure was incredible. I could never get my shower to have this much pressure. It was a selling point in my mind. But I wasn't ready to buy that just yet. I should start looking for an apartment. Maybe, when I go out today I can check out neighborhoods. I liked my neighbors at my old apartment, but I wanted a fresh start. I looked in the mirror and promised myself I would at least look for a new domicile. I couldn't stay here forever. I was confident that Ranger would be released. I needed a new apartment. My mother wouldn't understand this living arrangement. Eventually I would have some problems with it also. Not to mention the obvious. Ranger. He would kick me out eventually.

It was already after nine by the time I emerged from the bathroom. I was hoping for a plan to pick up Betty, or at least a decision about what to bring for dessert on Sunday, but I got nothing. I needed to get to my appointment at the mall. I threw on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and my Chucks. My hair was freshly washed and pulled into a ponytail. I wasn't sure what I wanted Mr. Alexander to do to my hair, but there had to be something he could change to make it less fried out. Arizona was not kind to my split ends. I needed him to either do something to make my hair behave, or I would have to shave it all off and start over. I was hoping that was not the only option he would give me. I ran down the stairs and jumped into the Jeep and motored over to the mall.

While my hair soaked in a vat of hot oil, Mr. Alexander fussed over how he didn't think it was going to work. He said he would need to cut off about four inches of hair no matter what. Ugh. He saw my frown, but he wagged his finger at me and said this was my fault. I should have treated my hair better. There was no excuse. When I left the salon I had a bag of hair treatments and an above the shoulder haircut that bobbed when I walked. I guess it could have been worse. Although, I knew from experience, when my hair is this length, it tends to go "Bozo the Clown" in the morning. Yikes! I would need to be careful, or I would scare everyone away. I was already at the mall so I picked up some new jeans, black slacks, and some new black boots. I also got a cute mini skirt and leggings that were hard to resist. I let myself go into shopping mode. It was like meditation. At least it was when you had money in your bank account. I dropped my bags in the back seat of the Jeep and motored over to the office. I wanted to find out if Connie had gotten a call about my Jeep. It still seemed strange she hadn't called me about it.

Lula wasn't in the office when I walked in. Connie looked up. She had been furiously filing her nails. "You cut your hair. It looks nice."

I paused at the door and looked in the glass reflection. Whenever someone says that, be weary. It usually means your hair looks horrible. "Does it look that bad?"

"No," she said nodding, trying to make it better. "It's just short. I wasn't expecting it. But, be careful though. You know how your hair does that "Bozo the Clown" thing when it frizzes out."

I looked at her. "You know about the Bozo thing?"

She looked down at her nails. "Well, yeah. When it does that, it's kind of frightening."

Great, just great. "Where is Lula?" I asked Connie, trying to change the subject. I really wanted a partner to go to Les's office with me today, especially after that statement about my hair.

"I don't know." She said concerned. "She didn't come in, and she didn't call. Should I be worried?"

"Did you check your messages?" I said cutting my eyes over to the quiet little answering machine sitting on the corner of her neat and orderly desk.

"Yeah, the light's not blinking, see?" She said looking over at it. She put down her nail file and grabbed the nail polish. "Actually, no one has left messages. It's kind of nice, but strange."

"No one?" I said, looking at her surprised.

"No." Connie said thinking. "Not for a couple of days."

"A couple of days!?" I said, now a little concerned. "Have you made sure the machine works?"

"Well, yeah. The light is on. Why wouldn't it work?"

"Hold on." I said. "I have left messages, and the cops said they left a message too. Don't answer the phone, I'm going to call and see what happens."

I called and we let the phone ring. Then we got the machine. I left a message. The machine did nothing. No blinking light, zilch.

"How long has it been since you have gotten messages?" I said realizing we could have a real problem here.

"Well," She said thinking. "At least two days!" Her voiced rose to a panic. She pressed the button on the machine. It told her she had 174 new messages.

"Oh jeez!" She said. "This is really bad!"

We sat down together and hit the play button. She had a pad of paper in front of her, pen poised to write down the date and each message that was left on the machine. Plenty came from people trying to sell them things. We deleted those as they came up. The only ones that were interesting were the police telling Connie my Jeep was ready, four messages letting her know which clients decided not to go to court and four messages from her uncle. He sounded very upset. He couldn't understand why Connie was avoiding him. He had left three messages yesterday, and one this morning. Plus, there was a call from Lula saying she had the Flu. The flu, huh? That's a new one. I think she needs to get a list of better excuses.

"I think you should call your uncle back." I said. "He sounds upset."

"He never calls me. I wonder what it's about. I hope Luanne isn't in the clinker again."

"Who's Luanne?"

"My uncle's third wife. He divorced her, but he helps her out sometimes." She looked through the messages. "Ok, I'll call. I just hope no one died. I hate funerals."

She picked up the phone and she called. All I heard was a heated discussion in Italian. Connie paced back and forth across the office. She had decided on a mini skirt today and a tailored jacket with a scarf. She had on four inch heels that sunk into the carpet as she walked back and forth. There was a lot of screaming and yelling in both English and Italian. She stopped pacing and said, "Ok, yeah. Ok sure. I'll ask. Yes! Alright already. I'll call you back!"

She hung up, staring at me, and shaking her head. "Jeez!" She said. Then she sat down.

I was morbidly curious. For some reason, other people's problems were fascinating. It was easier to help someone out than it was to deal with my own drama. "What happened?"

Connie took a deep breath. "The boys at the docks…they found Tony yesterday. Ya know, "The Tool Guy"?" She said, leaning on her wooden desk. "My uncle said they don't know who the hell whacked him, but it wasn't them or anyone they know. He's pissed. I guess he was good. My uncle said that they hired him to do surveillance on someone. He said Tony disappeared the same night Jeanne Ellen got herself killed. The boys were doing maintenance yesterday morning, cleaning out storage containers and they came across a body that looked like it could be Tony. I guess he was shot in the head somewhere, and maybe dragged into a container. He said there wasn't a lot of blood, and there are drag marks. It looked to him like he had been there a while.

My mouth must have been hanging open. I noticed, and shut it before a bug crawled in and made a home. This was getting scary.

"He thinks it could be related to the Jeanne Ellen Burrow's case." Connie continued. "Especially since she was the one Tony was watching. Uncle Phil said the last thing they need is to have this on their plate. The FBI is breathing down their necks already. The heat is on. He said he needed someone to call it in. So he has been calling me, trying to get a line to you."

"Me?" Oh crap.

"They want you to call in the tip, as a favor."

"A favor?" I looked at her. "That is what he said. 'A favor?"'

"Yeah. That is what he said. They said you call in the tip and they will let you listen to the tapes."

"Tapes, what tapes?" Now I was really interested.

"The surveillance tapes, I guess." Connie said. "Tony was watching Jeanne. You were right, she was the hit. He said he would only tap the phone and watch the property, let them know who comes and goes. He taped it all. I guess there were like fifty tapes he had in his pack when they found him."

My eyes lit up. This might be the evidence that would get Ranger out of trouble.

"Wait, he said all that to you on the phone? What if someone was listening?"

"He has a secure line, and so does Vinnie. No one taps these lines."

"Call him back. Tell him I'm calling it in right now. I want those tapes."

I waited for Connie to call her Uncle back, and then I used her phone to make the call. I didn't know if you could tap cell phones, but if you could, mine would be compromised for sure.

"Stephanie," Joe said as he answered the phone. "You're up and solving crime early. What's up?"

"Tony the Tool is at the docks." I said quickly. "Dead. A couple days." I was hoping he would just say, "Ok, thanks for the tip. Have a nice day."

He was silent for a moment. I heard him shuffle paper and grunt as if he was getting his head around it.

"Did you find him?" He sounded stunned.

"No, I got an anonymous tip." I said. I was trying hard to pretend that he wouldn't want any more details. "I'm passing it on to you. It might be related to Jeanne's case."

"You know, one of these days you will need to explain to me how it is you get all the information before we do. I am counting on blind luck, but it is almost impossible to depend on such a ridicules theory." He hung up.

"When do I get to hear the tapes?" I said.

"Uncle Phil said they need to white wash them first. He said they would be available once any implications were taken off. They would hide them. He said they would call with the location, but if it looked like Tony did the crime, the tapes would not show up."

Fair enough. I really hoped there was something on the tapes that would help get Ranger out of jail. If they didn't show up, I had my answer about Tony being the killer.

Connie needed to get a new answering machine. She was rooting through the paperwork and messages that we had collected. I was pacing back and forth thinking about Tony and what could have happened to him. I really wanted to hear those tapes. Connie was tapping her pencil on the desk. She watched me pace. She went to the computer and started entering all the messages she had gotten from the machine. She pulled up a calendar program. Connie started pulling out some files.

"We have today's most wanted list and the new skips that the machine just gave me. Want me to give them to you?" She asked, looking at a stack of folders.

I debated. I had some time and I was going to wear a trench in the carpet if I kept walking back and forth. I still had Betty and Bernie to catch. Bernie I was holding onto for Sunday. Betty, maybe I could get today if I could come up with a good plan.

"It will probably take a couple days before they will have the tapes for you Steph. No reason to wait around here."

I stopped pacing. "Days?" I groaned. "Ok, you're right. Who has skipped? Anyone I know?"

She looked at the calendar again and took another folder out. "Believe it or not, since Vinnie has been back, we have had fewer problems getting people to go to court. We only have a couple, and they are small time. Probably won't give you any problems either."

Vinnie walked in the back door and went straight into the office.

"Don't look now," she said sarcastically. "It's Vinnie, and he's here before ten. Give him a cookie."

"I heard that." Vinnie yelled out the office door.

Connie stopped chewing her gum. "Damn it, Vinnie!" She opened the top drawer of the desk and rummaged around. She picked up a lipstick and looked at it closely. She dropped it in her coffee.

I looked at the folders on Connie's desk. "Ok, who do you have?"

"For one, a street vendor named Leslie."

"Just Leslie?"

"Yep, just Leslie. One of Lula's friends. Like Cher, he only has one name. He shouldn't give you too much trouble."

"He?"

"Yeah, he thinks he's John Wayne or something. He sells scarves and whatever else he can find at a corner near Stark Street. Ask Lula, she will help you find him. That is, if she ever decides to come to work again."

Lula is out today, probably having fun with Tank. So I picked up the other file.

"Donnie Donatello." I said, opening the file. He was high bond, and probably someone I didn't want to deal with. He was arrested for street racing and receiving stolen property.

"You may want to give that one to Tank." Connie said. "It's not that he is that bad, but he is a handful."

I heard Vinnie laugh. Connie looked at the lipstick in her coffee. She fished the lipstick out and looked at it. It wasn't a bug. Just a stray lipstick someone had left. She started scouting around for another device. Vinnie walked out of the office.

"Let's see you find that one." He picked up the file for Donnie. "If I had been here this would have never come across my desk. I want you to know that Stephanie. This is all Connie and Lula."

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"It means that the next few days might get interesting. Say hi to Donnie for me."

Connie was still looking for the bug Vinnie had put somewhere around her desk. "I hate being spied on. It's the worst." She picked up a pen and took it apart. She started looking under her desk.

I left her to scavenger hunt. I put the files in my bag along with Bernie's and Betty's. I sat in the Jeep and looked at Donnie's file. Reckless driving seemed to be the most he does. He never has a weapon, doesn't like to show up for court. Who does? He was fifty-four years old. Lived in the neighborhood all his life, I wondered if my parents knew him. His name wasn't familiar. I put the file down and looked at Bernie's file again. I remembered I still hadn't decided on a dessert to bring over Sunday. I hoped Bernie would come with Grandma. I motored over to Betty Trujillo's.

I parked in front of the tiny brick house surrounded by a white picket fence. She had a postage stamp size green lawn with flowers bordering the fence all the way around in colors of pink and purple. There was a small walkway and a wooden gate with a creaky hinge. I opened it and walked up the path to a worn "Welcome" mat. Her front door was wood and it had been freshly painted. I put my flak jacket on in the Jeep just in case, and I had my stun gun turned on and ready. My hand rested in my Sig Sauer. I knocked.

Betty Trujillo opened the door again. No shotgun. What was strange is that I don't think she recognized me. I did look a little different. My hair was cut and I was now dressed and had a bulletproof vest on.

"Yes, may I help you?"

I decided on the direct approach this time.

"Betty Trujillo?"

"Yes, that's me."

"You did not show up for your court appearance. I need to bring you in so you can reschedule."

She decided on the same routine. She even used the same blank stare. I was keen to it now. She told me her appointment was Tuesday and I must be mistaken, but before she could turn and pick up her gun, mine was aimed at her. I smiled as I cuffed her and put her in my Jeep. It was a lot easier than using a stun gun. She should be happy. Stun guns can turn messy. No one likes to pee their pants.

I called Connie on the way to the police station. "Did you find the bug yet?"

"No."

"Try the phone. Maybe it's on the phone."

"I did. I am talking to you with only half the phone in my hand."

"Anything yet from your uncle?"

"It's been a half hour, Stephanie."

I dropped Betty off with Eddie. He looked at me funny. "What's this?"

I was lost. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she is awake and handcuffed. You aren't even dirty."

Very funny.

"You got your hair cut. It looks nice."

I touched my hair and checked the mirror on the jeep. It looked like it was starting to frizz out. I rummaged around and found a baseball cap.

He handed me the capture receipt. "Joe said if you stopped by to come see him. He needs to talk to you."

"Tell him I will meet him in the parking lot."

If Joe wanted to talk to me it was about the tip I called in. I watched him walk out to the parking lot fifteen minutes later. I was reading Donnie's file. It looked like Joe was a relative. Joe was related to half of Trenton. Maybe he could help me locate him.

"How did you know about Tony "The Tool" Barella being at the docks?" He said as he walked up to the Jeep. I was leaning against it, protectively. My Jeep. sounds stupid. But I had not owned a car this long, ever. And it didn't even have a dent.

"I got a tip." I said defensively putting down the file.

"Yeah? From who?"

"It was anonymous"

"Tony wasn't in good shape. The area he was in, those containers all had an organized crime vibe to them. Know anything about that?"

I nodded "No."

"He had been there for a while." He continued. "Possibly from the night Jeanne Ellen was killed. That's not for sure, just a guess." He watched me. His look was guarded. "He was ripe. Thing is, he had some electronic stuff on him, we are thinking he may have been doing surveillance."

"Really?" I tried to act surprised. Hoping I was pulling it off to some degree.

"Maybe he got popped because he was at Jeanne's and someone spotted him."

"Could be." I said.

"You know anything about that? " Joe asked. "Anything about, maybe some tapes that might have been on him when "anonymous" found him?"

"Maybe the killer took the tapes." I suggested.

"I don't think so." He said, leaning against my Jeep next to me. "They would have taken other things we found too. They didn't. Just the tapes were missing." He said, pondering.

I shrugged.

Joe looked at me. I knew, he knew I was keeping information from him. He had a sixth sense, kind of like Grandma Bella. Plus, I wasn't too good at lying. I could pull it off with some people, but with stuff that mattered, I never could do it.

"Well, if anything comes up…" he said. "...I would like to see it."

I just looked at him, hoping I could have a poker face for this one.

"If anything comes up..." I said.

Joe stood there staring at me. He wasn't satisfied. He wanted more.

"Ya see the thing is, I think Tony was doing surveillance on Jeanne Ellen. Someone knew she was dirty, but they hadn't decided what to do about it yet. I think maybe the killer might have walked up on him and killed him. Took the body down to the docks and dumped it."

"It makes sense." I said. Knowing that was the theory everyone had so far.

"Yeah, I also think maybe, just maybe, mafia boys stumbled on to him on the docks." Joe said, now cutting his eyes to me has he spoke. "Maybe, they don't want this coming back to them. Afraid of the implications. Then, someone decides to call Connie. They ask her to have you call it in. In exchange for whatever evidence Tony had on him." Joe paused, watching for my reactions. I tried to stay still. It was really hard to pretend that you aren't as transparent as everyone else knows you to be.

"See." Joe said turning towards me. "You usually come in with evidence and a theory. But you're not." He said curiously. "You're quiet, like you don't need a theory. You already know. Poker faces don't work when you have tells, Stephanie. You always have tells."

Shit. Joe was right. I do have tells. Ranger said that too. What the hell. What tells? If I knew, I could work on them. I took back anything bad I had said about his deductive reasoning. He was ten times better at being a detective than I was. I wasn't about to tell him he was right, I had to go with it. "You're a loon, Joe Morelli."

"Ok, Steph." He said. "But keep in mind, I want those tapes. On another offhanded related subject, DNA is back on Ranger. Jeanne Ellen's baby was not his. No sign of Ranger even laying a finger on her that night."

I look a deep breath. That was a huge relief. "When can I see him?" I said, hoping for the best.

"Well, maybe you can see him now." Joe paused. "He caused a problem last night. He is lucky he has friends in high places, or it would have been worse. Joe Juniak is keeping him from being transferred to a high security holding cell. The FBI guys had him evaluated. I am not sure he is allowed to see anyone. Come on, let's go find out. If you get in, you owe me the tapes. I'm not kidding."

I always thought the tapes would go to him eventually. I just wanted to listen to them first. That is if I got them at all.

Joe got the Ok. No one was in today to stop us at least. I was finally going to be able to see Ranger. I had to go through security, leave my stuff in a locker. I was even searched before I could go into a room with him. I sat in the little eight by ten waiting. It had a small table and two chairs. Joe whispered that the room was not secure. Then he left.

Fifteen minutes later, Ranger was walked into the room with two guards. They waited as he sat down and they chained him to the table .

I looked at the young officer. "Is that necessary?" I said surprised at the security involved with this.

"After last night, you bet it is. You know the rules? No touching or contact in any way." He finished checking on the chains, and left the room.

Ranger had on prison gray. It was a sad color. One I never wanted to see him in. He looked Ok, a little rough without shaving for a few days. His face was unreadable. He watched the door shut, and then looked over at me. He looked tired, and he looked like he was very unhappy being in here. He stared at me intently, his eyes serious.

Ranger leaned over the table after they closed and locked the door. "What are you doing here, Stephanie?" he said quietly.

"I wanted to see if you were ok." My voice broke as I said it, knowing that sounded stupid. I was getting mixed signals from his reaction to me being here.

He leaned back in the chair. He raised his hands, and said, "Shh..." Then looked up and around, telling me we were being monitored.

I didn't care if they heard me. "I am going to get you out of here."

He stared silently at me again, making me feel uncomfortable. I fidgeted in my chair. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"They did a psychological profile on me this morning." He whispered, still keeping his eyes trained on mine. They said I was borderline psychotic." He watched me as he said it. His eyes blazed fire.

I sat there and stared at him for a moment, wondering if I should be afraid.

"Really?" I finally said. "They said that from one interview? They're pulling your chain."

He smiled. "Yeah, I know. But you bought it for a second." Then he was back to being himself. I was relieved. I had bought it for more than a second. I thought maybe for a moment that they had the right man. I almost jumped up and pounded on the door to get me out of here.

He smiled and his eyes studied me. "Take off your hat."

I didn't want to take off my hat. I was feeling slightly self conscious about my hair being cut above my shoulders. I took the hat off trying to smooth down my hair to make it less wild.

"You cut your hair. I like it."

I don't know enough about Ranger to think he could be saying that to make me feel better about it, but I think he was telling the truth. Even if he wasn't, he knew how to make me feel better. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to get him out of here.

He was quiet for a moment. His smile left his face. He leaned in again and said quietly "Who the hell killed Jeanne, and why? What did she do to piss someone off that badly?"

I shook my head. "I don't know yet, but I'm working on it."

Whomever it was, took the weapon from the Jeep. They actually took my gun. She was killed with a RangeMan weapon. Christ. How fucked up is that? I am still wondering if they were there after her, me, or both of us? Fuck. This was not the way things were suppose to go that night." He was clearly upset and confused. He raised his hands. "I'm stuck in here." He continued, getting pissed. "I can't run my business. I can't track anything down from here. I have to rely on Michael Rosewall to figure out a way to get me released."

"He's good." I said. "If there is a way, he will find it."

"Angelica." He said, looking at me more intently. "She is off the case?"

I smiled. "She's very pretty."

"Yes, she is." He said thinking about it for a moment, and calming down.

"She was angry when she found out you were dropping her."

"I bet." He looked towards the door. "You shouldn't have had to deal with that. I'm sorry."

"Joe slept with her too." I said, cutting to the chase.

His eyebrows went up. He was clearly surprised. "Wow!"

He sat there for a moment. Looking at me. Maybe trying to gauge how I felt about it all. "Do you know if there are any other fingerprints in the Jeep besides yours and mine?" Ranger asked, changing the subject.

I had been moving down the same path as he was about the Jeep. I had nothing solid enough to go on. "I haven't heard anything about the crime scene." I said. "Everyone is still pretty much working on it. Plus, I doubt I would ever be the first to know that type of thing."

Ranger took a deep breath, and was looking at his hands. "She didn't deserve this, Stephanie. She wasn't as bad as you think she was. Just misguided."

"No one deserves to be shot and killed, Ranger." I said. "But she was playing a lot of games. Someone didn't appreciate it." I didn't want to say much more than that. Not here. Not with people listening.

So give me an idea of what you know that you can tell me with cops listening.

"I know she worked for the Feds. I know she had contracts out on her throughout her career, I know she had a lot of enemies. It will be hard to pinpoint which one of those people took it to the next level."

"How did you find out about all the FBI crap?"

"Ramon told me most of it."

"Who do you suspect?"

"There's a long list."

"How long?"

I shrugged. I wanted to be able to say a short list, but it kept getting longer.

"What else have you learned about Jeanne?"

"She was seeing a few people, Mary Maggie was one of them, and she was two months pregnant. What was she thinking?"

"Pregnant?" I could see Ranger was struggling to grasp the concept.

"Pregnant." I said. "But not yours."

"So you know she was an informant. You know that she had dangerous people after her. You know she was not only seeing me, but also Mary and possibly someone else."

"They found Tony Barella down at the docks today."

"Tony? The one that we thought was after you?"

"I think he was watching Jeanne. At least that is what I think. I'm not sure of anything, except that he is dead. He might have been killed the same night Jeanne Ellen was killed.

"You've been busy. Whomever did this is going to have hemorrhoids by the time this is over." He said almost cracking a real smile. "You will end up turning over the right rock, and you'll have the killer." His eyes were very serious. "I can't protect you from in here. You have to trust my team." He leaned into the table. "Be careful. You are moving very fast, whoever did this is going to be watching you. Keep your eyes open, always park at the garage at RangeMan. Have the Jeep fitted with motion detectors and anything else they can come up with. The minute things start to get weird; you call the team in. Stay at my apartment. Please. I want them near you."

"Ok". I said. He was scaring me. I knew it could get dangerous, and he was right, there was no one watching my back this time. I needed to really be careful.

"No Babe, really." He said, making sure I got what he was saying. "No fucking around this time. I don't want anything to happen to you. I feel helpless enough in here. You are important."

He stared hard at me. I took his hand. I knew the rules, but I didn't care.

"Ok….Ok Carlos. I promise." I whispered.

Joe came back in. "Time's up."

Ranger stood as the guard released the lock on the table. He kept his eyes on me until they turned him to walk out.

Joe and I walked out together.

"So, what made you guys decide to have him evaluated and chained to a table for God's sake?" I said looking at Joe as he held the front door open for me.

"Well Stephanie, last night he got out of his cell. He was sitting next to it this morning. He figured out how to pick the lock or set off a mechanism. Who the hell knows? He could have walked out, he didn't. The only reason he is not in a Plexiglas bubble right now is because of the Mayor. The guy that did the evaluation on him said that he is extremely intelligent. They would need to have him here a lot longer to know more."

"Did he say why he got out of the cell?"

"Nope. Our tape shows him, or at least his hands, messing with the side of the door, doing something. Then, it shows the door just opening. He stretched out, did some push-ups, sat down and waited for "lights on".

He looked at me. "Batman."

I just nodded. Joe didn't ask about the tapes again. But I knew I owed him. I would give them to him, as long as there was nothing bad on them. If I got them, I would have Michael make copies.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Tank was running Rangeman like a well oiled machine. Ramon was busy with Hal working on the programs for the new computer systems that had to be replaced when half the equipment was confiscated. They couldn't wait around to get it back. Rangeman had contracts that needed to be handled. They didn't have time to waste. Crime happened; it didn't stop because the computers were not working. If it was known that fifty percent of the monitoring system at Rangeman Security was down, it would make for easy targets. Several businesses had called to make sure they were still on top of things. Ramon needed a raise. I didn't see him leave the third floor now for two days.

Tank watched the floor, hands clasped behind his back, blue tooth receiver in his ear. All systems looked to be operational. I stood next to him in my brown business suit. Tank and I had met with Mitchell Gaskil this morning. We had done the final walk through of his building. Ranger was supposed to be doing this with Tank, I filled in for him. All the new implements were in place, and Rangeman had control of his security. If Mr. Gaskil was happy with our system, we would be signing contracts for three more of his buildings. One was in Miami, one was in Chicago, and the other was in Los Angeles. Rangeman security was now on site. The building came up on our system. I think we both sighed with relief. The cameras were excellent, and the boards ran smooth as we watched the building.

I checked my phone again, still nothing from Connie about the tapes.

"What are you thinking about?" Tank asked as I put the phone back in my pocket.

"Dessert."

He looked at me strangely.

"I'm in charge of bringing dessert tonight to my parent's house. I don't know what to bring."

"Bring apple turnovers."

Ramon came up behind him. "Apple turnovers? Are you discussing the Sunday dessert again? Bring cherry pie. I love cherry pie."

Hal overheard us talking. "Bring cheesecake. Chocolate cheesecake. Better yet, bring one of those cheesecake things that have all different types of cheesecake. Cheesecake is the best. You can't go wrong with cheesecake."

We all stood in a semi circle.

"Lemon Meringue pie is good also. You could bring one of those. How many people are we talking here?" Ramon asked.

"About ten? I think I would need more than one pie."

"You would need at least two pies." Tank said. "I'm stickin' with apple turnovers. It's an American tradition. Everyone likes apple turnovers. You can make as many as you want. They are all separate entities. Easier to manage."

"Yeah, but cherry pie, that's tops."

They turned to me. I took a deep breath not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. "They are all good suggestions. I don't know what I'm bringing."

"Yeah, but which one are you leaning towards?" Tank said. "The apple turnovers, right?"

"No, I bet the cherry pie" Ramon said.

"Come on, you know the cheesecake is best. That way everyone has a choice. The other two, they are ok, but what if someone's not in the mood for cherry pie or apples? Cheesecake wins, every time." Hal said with confidence.

They didn't understand that I wasn't good with spur of the moment decisions when it came to dessert. "I can't decide!" I stormed off and got into the elevator for the seventh floor. I heard Tank still arguing with Hal and Ramon about apple turnovers as the doors closed.

My phone rang as I got out on the seventh floor. The doors smoothly shut behind me with a whoosh of air. It was my mother, no doubt reminding me about tonight's dinner.

"I don't know what to bring for dessert."

I heard my mother breathe in harshly. "You haven't picked up dessert yet?"

"No. I'll pick something up on the way over."

"What if there is nothing left? Sunday is a big day, no decent bakery would be open today, Stephanie. Where are you getting dessert?"

I hadn't thought about that. Almost all the small delis and bakeries in Trenton would be closed. It's Gods day. Everyone knew that. Oops.

"Is Costco open today?"

I heard her gasp into the phone. "No good person would buy a Sunday dessert at Costco. It's unheard of. You're going to have to make something."

I was silent. I couldn't cook. I couldn't bake. I didn't even have a kitchen.

"Maybe you can help me." I said. "I can come over and bake something at the house."

"The oven is full of pot roast! And the stove, there is no room here." She said in a panicky voice.

"Ok, I will figure something out, no problem."

I heard a cork pop in the background of the phone. "Mom, I got this, don't you dare start drinking this early."

I hung up and let myself into Rangers apartment. What the hell was I going to do? I went to the computer and booted it up. I got the numbers and started calling all the bakeries in Trenton. Then I called all the bakeries in Newark, and then I started calling all the bakeries in New Jersey. She was right! No one was open on Sunday. Shit!

I called Ella. The machine kicked in to leave a message. I wouldn't panic. It was still early. I had plenty of time to figure this out. I took the stairs down to the third floor. Tank was again standing sturdy as the floor supervisor, hands behind his back, watching the screens and people in front of him. I slid up next to him.

"Where's Ella?"

Tank moved his eyes my direction. "Ella is on vacation. There is a note on the bulletin board in the break room. She will be back Tuesday."

Tuesday? Don't panic Stephanie Plum.

"The desserts you guys were talking about, can I get any of those at Costco?"

Tank turned fully towards me. "Costco won't be open today. It's Sunday."

Double shit. I took a deep breath. "Do you know of any place that would be open today that has desserts?"

"No."

"Do you know how to make those apple thingys?"

His eyebrows rose. "Do I know how to make apple turnovers?"

"Yeah, do you have the recipe?"

Tank looked around. I think he was worried someone would hear him. He whispered "Yes, I know how to make them. My mom taught me how. Do you need the recipe or something?"

I was thinking more "Or something."

"Is it easy?"

"What do you mean, is it easy? It's easy if you know what you're doing."

"What if you don't know what you're doing?"

"How would you not know what you're doing? Don't you know how to cook?"

"I can make microwave burritos. Does that count?"

Tank took a deep breath. "Is this for tonight?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you get something yesterday?"

"Jeez! I didn't know the fricken' bakeries would be closed!" I yelled. I looked around checking to see how many people heard me. Everyone heard me. They all turned slowly back to the monitors.

Tank looked down for a moment. "Ok, go to the store. Get these things." He used a pad of paper he had in front of him. He wrote down ingredients for me to pick up.

Hal came over and looked at what Tank was writing. "Need any help?" He read off the items on the list.

"Butter,sugar,flour,apples..Wait, apples? Are you making apple turnovers?" He smiled at me.

"I don't know how to make apple turnovers. Tank is going to help me."

Hal smiled at Tank. "Really? You know, cheesecake is easy. I could make it for you. I know how. I am an exceptional dessert maker." He closed his eyes and smiled at his known accomplishments.

Tank looked at him. "She asked me first."

Hal glared at Tank. He took a piece of paper out of one of the printers. While you're at the store Stephanie, get these things." He started writing down more items to pick up. "I'll show you just how easy cheesecake is. You'll see. I bet mine will be done faster than his."

Tank almost growled. "Faster is not better. It is the slow cooking that makes the dessert good. Not speedy Gonzalez. Apple turnovers are good because they take time to cook and make. It makes them perfect. I would put up the turnovers against the cheesecake any day of the week."

"Oh, you are on!"

Ramon walked up.. "Hey settle down. What the heck is this about?"

"Cheesecake Vs apple turnovers, I guess." I said.

"What about cherry pie?"

I shrugged. "They are making me go get the ingredients for both things. I don't know how to make cherry pie either."

Ramon watched Tank and Hal furiously write a list of things they needed.

"Well shit." Ramon picked up a piece of paper.

I had three lists when I got into the Jeep. If I would have waited any longer, Cal and Lester would have me getting something too. Ranger had the biggest kitchen. They would meet me there. I motored off to the market to get my dessert ingredients. I guess bringing three desserts would be better than not bringing any at all.

Ramon's cherry pies were finished first. He proudly stood over them, making sure they were cooked to perfection. Ranger's apartment smelled really good. I watched Hal make the final touches on his dark and light chocolate cheesecakes with the Oreo cookie crust. Tank was watching the apple turnovers brown in the oven.

Hal leaned against the kitchen counter looking at Tank. "Who knew Tank the tough guy, could be so delicate in the kitchen?"

Ramon stifled out a laugh, and then caught himself.

Tank smiled as he turned towards Hal. "Neither of you get it. It's not how quick you get it done; it's the time you put into it that makes it worthwhile."

"I was done first, though." Ramon said. My cherry pies were quick and easy."

"Yeah?" Hal said. "Well, mine were done second, and I made two kinds. Cheesecake is easy, but not too easy. Who wants something too easy?"

"Most people like easy and fast." Ramon said defensively.

Hal barked out a laugh "That's because you're a Metallica fuck, Ramon. Quick and easy is your specialty."

Ramon launched into Hal. I think he must have offended him. Maybe Hal was right, he was quick.

Tank helped me bring the desserts to the Jeep. Hal and Ramon were still busy cleaning up the kitchen, and the living room. The fight started in the kitchen and ended up the bathroom. Hal went through the glass coffee table, but he wasn't hurt. It was like watching a Godzilla movie. These two guys were massive. Tank stayed calm, watching both destroy Rangers apartment, protecting the turnovers that were still cooking, I stood behind Tank, hoping for some sort of shield. He called downstairs and Lester came in with Cal and separated both of them. They were now on cleanup detail. I had one cherry pie, one cheesecake and of course, all twenty of Tanks apple turnovers.

I parked in front of my parent's house. Reluctantly I looked towards the front door just as my mother peeked out the curtains. Val's brown minivan was parked in front of me. She had two bumper stickers. One said "I brake for Angels" and the other "My child is an honor student at Grace Elementary school". I wondered for a moment if the honor student was Mary Alice or Angie. Being that Mary Alice was more interested in what her plastic horses told her lately than school work, I was leaning more towards Angie. Was it possible that I to would sport a minivan and honor student stickers if my marriage to Dickie Orr would have been successful? For some reason, I didn't think so. I think our marriage was doomed from the beginning. I was in love with the image that my parents portrayed. Both Valerie and I had the fantasy imbedded in our brains. The difference or at least one of many differences was that I did not immediately get knocked up when I married Dickie. Val, she knew what she wanted. She wanted the kids and the minivan. The house and the garage. She wanted the dream badly enough she made it happen twice. When her first marriage took a dump, she did it all again. When mine took a dump, I took the high road, or the low road. Not sure which you would call it.

I was waiting for Bernie to show up. Grandma Mazur has never missed a Sunday dinner yet. Val was next to peek out the door curtain windows. Jeez, they were twins. If grandma was here, she would be standing there with them. Three generations of lookie-loos waiting patiently for me to come in the house. I checked my watch. It was already five thirty. Maybe they weren't coming. Now both Valerie and my mother's heads peeked out the window curtain together, and you know what was worse? A third smaller head peeked out with them. Angie. The insanity continued. I waived and held my "Wait just a second" Finger gesture towards them all. You know, the index finger held up and the look of impatience on the face. All three moved away from the curtains, one at a time.

My hand reached over to the seat next to me, my fingers finding the plastic of the bag that held the apple turnovers. I took one out as I watched a black Cadillac slowly roll down the street towards us. I slithered down into my seat happy that I had left the top on the Jeep, providing me with some cover. Of course there was a dilemma. What exactly did I plan to do with Bernie once I had him? I had a nightmare last night of Bernie strapped to the dining room chair at my parent's house. Everyone giving me the stink eye as Grandma lovingly fed Bernie with a spoon. I think I had a plan. I was going to handcuff him and then call Tank or Hal to come and pick him up for me.

Grandma would never forgive me. I sighed. Her happiness was more important than Bernie Horowitz. She was getting up there in age. How many more years did she have? I should let them enjoy themselves. I picked at the apple turnover. I saw the driver's side door open. Bernie slowly got out of the car. He closed the door and made his way to the passenger side. He opened the door. I was impressed that he was a gentleman, and it made me feel icky inside that I was thinking about arresting him. He helped my grandmother out of the car. Ok, that's it. I couldn't go through with it. Bernie led grandma over to the sidewalk and she busied herself with adjusting her skirt. He opened the back door and helped Bella out. I grimaced, she had been nice the last two times I had seen her. I just hoped she would be this time also. After Bernie made sure the car was locked up safe, all three of them walked slowly up the street towards me.

The door to the house opened. My mother stood with Valerie watching me, then watching them. She crossed her arms.

"Your Grandmother is worried you will ruin her night by arresting Bernie. I told her you wouldn't do a thing like that. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my stuff.

"Fine. I said. "I won't get Bernie tonight." I ate the apple turnover and went in the house.

"Is that Dessert?" My mother said as I handed her the bag.

"That is a chocolate cheesecake and a cherry pie." I held up the other bag. "These are apple turnovers."

"You brought three desserts?" Her eyebrows rose with disbelief.

"No one could decide."

I walked into the kitchen with her. Val was at the table feeding Lisa in a high chair. Valerie was three months pregnant, and already she was showing.

"Mom was sure you wouldn't bring anything for dessert. She was panicking. She made me bring cookies just in case."

I turned and looked at her. "Thanks, Mom."

"Stephanie, I never know with you. I wanted to be prepared."

I should have been offended, but I didn't have time. The door opened and in came Grandma Mazur with Bella and Bernie.

"There were no good spots to park!" She handed a bag over to my mother. "It is pineapple upside down cake. I hope its ok. It's all we had time for."

I saw my sister's mouth drop. My mother grabbed the bag, and walked it into the kitchen. Valerie's eyes were still watching my mother. They went from me to her to my grandmother.

"You didn't trust either of us to bring dessert?"

Clearly, my mother was caught in her own web. Trying to make sure everyone had what they needed to make a perfect meal; perfect had gotten her in hot water.

"I just wanted to make sure. Dinner would be ruined without dessert."

"Dinner would be fine without dessert, Helen. Who put that nonsense in your head anyway?" Grandma said.

My mother looked at my grandmother with astonishment. "You did! You always told me that. Every time we had Sunday dinner it was imperative we had dessert!"

Grandma looked confused for a moment. "I did? I don't remember that. It's a stupid thing to say. Forget I ever said it. I am always to full for dessert anyways, and then Val brings it home. She is getting fat. We should stop the dessert thing."

Val's spoon dropped. Lisa started crying. "I'm not fat, Grandma. I'm pregnant!"

Grandma looked over at Valerie."You're always pregnant. You should figure out what causes that."

The pot roast timer went off, and my mother busied herself with kitchen duties. Grandma Bella sat down at the table and started knitting. Grandma Mazur helped me set the table.

The pot roast came out and took center stage. Next to it was my mother's famous mashed potatoes, green beans and rolls. Mary Alice sat her Breyer horse next to her, and put a little trough in front of him so he could eat too. Albert sat next to her putting his napkin politely into his shirt. He did the same for Mary Alice. Albert had tried hard to learn how to like sports. Mary Alice wanted to play baseball. Angie wanted ballet lessons. Valerie would take Angie to Ballet, and Albert would take Mary Alice to baseball practice. He was trying to learn the game. He had a Cubs cap on his head. He didn't know that the Cubs were not well liked in New Jersey. I guess he would figure it out soon enough. I asked Valerie about it and she said the hat was left at the Laundromat with tags still on it. He thought Mary Alice would appreciate it. Angie sat next to Lisa and Valerie. She had a baby doll in her lap that looked a lot like her baby sister, Lisa. Bella and Grandma Mazur sat down on either side of Bernie and my father was finally coaxed out of the bathroom to head the table. Next to me was an extra plate.

I pointed to it. "Who else is coming?"

"I thought maybe your new boyfriend would show up."

I sucked in my breath and adjusted my seat. I looked at the pot roast and started filling my plate.

"Does he know we have Sunday dinners Stephanie?"

"Yeah. He knows."

"So he couldn't show up? Even for a moment?"

"If he could, I am sure he would have been here." Not. I thought. Ranger knew my family was crazy.

"You have a boyfriend, Stephanie?" Valerie said, helping Lisa eat potatoes off the side of her face.

"The only reason someone is missing a dinner like this would be because he was married, had to work, or is in the clinker." Bernie interjected.

My mother stopped eating. "Are you seeing a married man, Stephanie!?"

"No! Jeez. He is not married!"

"So where does he work?"

"He works in town." I stuttered.

"On Sunday?" Albert said

Dang it. This was a trap. I knew this was a bad idea.

"Can we just talk about this later?" I said, shoveling more food on to my plate. "So, Val. What's your good news?" Instead of everyone grilling me, I decided to change the subject.

Valerie beamed. She looked at Albert. "Well, for one, we are having a boy!"

My mother jumped up. "Oh Valerie! Congratulations!"

I wondered if I would ever have the chance to see my mother jump up excited like that for me. I thought for a moment, my mind's eye wandering. I pictured my mother when she found out I was dating a man wanted for murder. She jumped up and said "Oh Stephanie! Congratulations!" I rolled my eyes. Nope that would not happen. Ever.

After everyone hugged, kissed and congratulated her, I was ready for dessert. I thought I would take my apple turnovers home with me and eat them all in front of the TV with a bottle of wine, preferably red.

"Also," she said. "We are buying a house! The place we have now, it is too small for our growing family."

"Mom said that I could get my own room, and it would have a horse stall for my stuffed animals." Mary Alice said, beaming.

"Maybe Stephanie could move into our old place since she isn't at her apartment anymore."

I choked on a piece of meat. The table grew quiet again.

"My mother looked at me sideways. She was smiling. "Of course she still has her place. Dillon said he was saving it for her."

Valerie nodded "No. I went there yesterday. I wanted to ask her about watching Mary Alice. Some Spanish lady answered the door. She told me she had lived there for more than a month. So I knocked on her neighbor's door and he said that Stephanie hadn't ever come back."

Everyone looked at me. "Where have you been staying, Stephanie?" My mother said quietly.

The apple turnovers were calling me. I got up.

"Sit down." My mother said, pointing her finger at me.

I sat my plate down. "What?"

"I thought you were still at your apartment?"

"I didn't want to stay there anymore, too many memories."

"So you have a new place?"

"Uh, not really. I am still looking."

"So, where have you been sleeping?"

Oh boy. Here it comes. "I have been staying at a friend's."

"Mary Lou?"

"No."

"I know where she has been staying." Bella said.

I looked over at Bella. I wasn't expecting her to pipe up, how did she know where I've been staying?

"We were driving back from Frieda Ferguson's viewing last week. It was after nine at night. I saw Stephanie pull into a building on one of the streets over in the business district and park in an underground garage. I think it was an apartment building."

"It's all industrial buildings over there." My mother said.

"Well, that's where she went." She said as she picked at the pot roast.

"Who lives down there?" My mother looked at me.

I sighed. "I have been staying at Rangeman."

Her green beans dropped off her fork. "Stephanie, are you dating that friend of yours, Ranger?" She had a look of horror in her eyes.

"What's wrong with Ranger?" I asked.

She picked up her wine glass. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong with him." She downed her glass of wine, and poured another.

My dad piped in. "Which one is Ranger? Is he that black guy?"

"He's not black, Dad. He's Cuban-American." I said quietly.

"He wears all black though, right?"

Everyone was silent. We went back to eating. Except my mother, she was looking at the bottom of another empty glass.

"Ranger is really somethin'." Grandma said. "He has an excellent package. I touched it once."

I saw my mother refill her wine glass again. If she kept going, there was no telling what would happen.

"You touched his package?" Bernie said. "He bigger than me?"

"Oh jesus H Christ." My Dad said. "Helen, who is this person?" He pointed to Bernie.

"He is my boyfriend." Grandma said defiantly. "And you have a great package too." She patted Bernie on the knee.

"He is my boyfriend, too." Grandma Bella said.

Albert sat thinking to himself for a moment. I saw the cogs turn is his head, and I knew where it was going, I just didn't have the speed to stop him before he opened his mouth. I couldn't think of any way to distract him.

"Ranger? You are seeing Ranger? I thought he was in jail."

My father stopped chewing his food.

"In jail?" He said, folding his fingers together and glancing over at me.

"Yeah, haven't you guys watched the news?"

I was going to strangle Albert. I gave Valerie a "Help me!" Look. She whispered, "Albert, shut up."

He kept going. I think he felt he finally had something important to say to my father, it was his chance to impress him; he was going to throw me under the bus to do it.

"Ranger's real name is Carlos Manoso."

Oh, double shit. My father looked at me. "You're dating a murderer?"

"He's not a murderer. He didn't do it."

"I heard Carlos Manoso was a terrorist." Bella interjected.

My mother did the sign of the cross, and tried to pour more wine into her glass, realizing the bottle was empty.

Jeez, could this get any worse?

"I think Ranger is sweet, he wouldn't hurt anybody." Mary Alice said. The table stopped floating in my head for a moment. I wanted to hug my niece.

"How would you know, smarty pants?" Angie asked sarcastically.

"Because, he helped me color a picture of a unicorn when he was here for dinner before. He colored all the colors of the rainbow perfect and he wasn't afraid to use the pink crayons like other boys. "

"That doesn't make him not a murderer, Mary Alice." Angie said coolly.

"Yes, it does." She said back. "I like him,"

"Your mother dated a murderer before. Didn't you, Helen?" Grandma said.

The table went completely silent. I looked at my mother. Her fork was partway into her mouth. A piece of the pot roast poised on her lips. She looked around at the table, then slid her chair out and got up. She started clearing the dishes.

"I'm not finished!" Angie yelled, as my mother picked up her plate.

Although Grandma saved the day by getting me off the hook, I thought it was a little unbelievable.

"Yeah, right!" Valerie said thinking the same thing as I did. "Our mom? Very funny Grandma."

"Tell em' Helen, It's true."

"I wasn't dating him, He wasn't a murderer."

"Well, close enough. If it wasn't for Frank, Helen would have married Donnie."

I sucked in some air. The words Vinnie had said. "This isn't my fault, Stephanie. This is all Lula and Connie; I want you to know that now."

"Donnie Donatello?" I said grabbing hold of my bag with the file in it.

My mother stared at me in shock. "How do you know his name?"

"He's FTA. He is from the neighborhood, and he is related to Bella and Joe."

Bella looked at my mother. "You're Helen? You're the one who made Donnie crazy? You?" Bella got up. She looked at Bernie. "I want to leave now. This family is crazy. I want to go home to my daughters."

It wasn't that Valerie and I didn't know what my parent's life had been like, we just never took the time to really dig through it.

"I would not have married Donnie, Mom. He just wouldn't accept that I loved Frank. He got a little crazy and beat someone up. He didn't kill anyone. I heard he was doing ok and lived in Atlantic City."

My father threw down his napkin after wiping his face, "He tried to run me over in his car once, Helen. I would say he was pretty close to a murderer for that. Why are you still defending him?"

The night ended with my father storming out of the house to go play cards with his friends, and my mother passed out drunk on the couch.

Bernie and Grandma Mazur took Bella back to her daughter's house. Bella was pretty determined not to live with Grandma anymore. Not after finding out who my mother really was. Val, Angie, and Mary Alice helped me clear the table and clean up.

"Holy cow. I wasn't expecting that to happen." Val said. "So Ranger. You don't think he killed that girl?"

"No, but it will be hard to prove he didn't."

"Who is this Donnie character?"

"I don't know. I had no idea mom knew him. I'm not sure I want to do this bounty hunter stuff anymore. Some things should stay secret. Maybe this is one of those things."

"What would you do for a job then?"

"Maybe work for Rangeman. They offered me a job."

So you think you will take it?

"I'm seriously thinking about it."

"Well, The house will be available next month if you want it." Val Said. "The rents pretty cheap. Eight hundred a month."

I told her I would think about it. We got my mother upstairs and into bed. I can honestly say this night was the craziest yet. I took Donnie's file and dropped it back into my bag. It was a mystery for another day.

I went to bed with a bottle of red wine. I drank the entire bottle and passed out in the middle of the third episode of Criminal Minds. A blasting obnoxious tone was going off in my head. I opened my eyes, realizing it was the alarm clock. I looked over at the empty bottle sitting next to it, and I turned it off. Reluctantly I rolled out of bed. The sooner I cleared Ranger of this bullshit, the better. Next time I went over to see my parents, they would probably have an intervention meeting. Ugh. I can't believe I drank a whole bottle of wine. I threw up and went back to bed.

I woke up at noon. My head was still throbbing. I took a shower and tried to look presentable. I put on a black business suit and black heels. I needed to go see Les Seabring today. I couldn't get the circles to go away from under my eyes. I put on extra concealer. Nothing worked. I gave up and grabbed my sunglasses.

I called the office to see if Lula had shown up. Connie said Lula had been at the office since they opened. Lula was too happy for a Monday morning, and she didn't know how much more she could take. I asked Connie if I could borrow Lula for a few hours.

"Please." She said. "I'll pay you to get her outta here for a while."

Connie put Lula on the phone.

"Hey girlfriend, what's shaken?" The tone of her voice stabbed my brain, and I winced.

"You want to go with me to see Les today? I need to ask him some questions about Jeanne."

"Hell ya, are you kidding?" Lula said. "Anything is better than being here with little miss grumpy pants."

I picked Lula up in front of the bonds office. Connie was right, Lula was annoyingly happy for noon on Monday. She had on a black skirt and a gray shirt with sparkles all over it. Lula was smiling ear to ear.

I was envious of Lula's mood. I think she had sunshine following her around. She bounced happily over the car. I growled. No one should be this happy on a Monday morning. My eyes felt like they were going to explode. My sunglasses were not dark enough.

"What's wrong with you?" Lula asked, getting into the Jeep. I hope it is not contagious. I am in a good mood."

"I drank too much last night."

"Not me. Been there, done that. I know my limits. You know what you need? You need some food. Fries and a Coke always works."

I was hoping she was right.

"Go to Jimmies. They always have fresh French fries. The key is in the freshness. While we're there, order me one of those double,double cheese burgers. I'm starving. I've decided not to snack anymore. Just breakfast, lunch and dinner. That's it. No extras."

"How's it working so far?"

"Well, I already had lunch. This will have to count as dinner."

"What are you going to do for dinner?"

"I got that all figured out. I won't eat dinner."

I thought the chance of that happening were pretty slim.

We took our order to go and drove over to Les Seabring's Office. I wasn't sure Les would even be in his office. If he was anything like Vinnie, He came in late and left early. Course, anyone who ran the office like Vinnie, would likely be out of business by now.

Les Seabring's Bail Bonds had more class and a better building than Vinnie would ever have. He also dealt with child custody bonds. Vinnie had tried to get into that business once, but it turned out to be a headache he was not willing to repeat. From what I heard, Les did ok working the cases with the child bonds. Jeanne Ellen worked for him and went after the people who did not comply with the bond agreement. She was his star player. I wondered what he would do now without her on the payroll. He had a four story building in the high rent district of Trenton. His office was the entire top floor of the building. The rest of the floors were leased out to whoever could afford them.

I checked the directory posted in the main lobby. There were four attorneys, three insurance agents, two stock brokers, a deli, a coffee bar, and a partridge in a pear tree. The deli and coffee bar was mostly for the people who worked in the building. It was a trend that I had seen with most of the corporate offices I had been in. Les probably made most of his money in rent. Vinnie had always told me he had been in competition with Les for a long time. I think Les was winning.

We took the elevator to the fourth floor. It was nicer than most apartments I had been in. The doors opened up to the main lobby reception area of Les Seabrings office. It was a white washed room with dark brown lush carpet with beautiful paintings adorning the walls framed in gold. Tall green ferns were at every corner. A large wood desk was successfully arranged to pull you in and ask for assistance from the young woman handling the phones. To the left of us were offices and to the right the same. Her desk was positioned between the two sections of the office. A large window overlooking the city was directly behind her. I bet she didn't do a lot of computer work here. the glare from the window would make it almost impossible. My guess was that she was the Connie of the office. More to stop clients from just walking into Les's office without being handled by her first. I smiled sweetly as we walked over to the desk. I had practiced this look in the mirror my whole life. She welcomed us to Seabring Bonds and Securities, and asked us if she could be of any assistance.

I held out my hand towards her. "My name is Stephanie Plum, and this is my partner, Lula Vongard." Lula looked at me funny. I hoped she rolled with it. I didn't know her last name. I had never asked. I thought now would be an inappropriate time.

"We would like a minute with Les Seabring, if that's possible?"

She looked a little put out. I think its part of the hiring process. If you are going to be a receptionist, you must practice your "put out" and you're "I'm sorry" face, or you will never keep your job.

"Do you have an appointment with Mr. Seabring?" She said, almost apologetically.

I didn't skip a beat. "Oh,no, I'm sorry." I said. "We just thought that we would pop on down and say hello. He is such a great guy over at the SnakePit. He told us to stop on by anytime. He just loves the girl on girl action we set up for him." I smiled again, this time I licked my lips for effect.

I think her mouth hit the table. She believed me. I know receptionists. Mentioning sex with other women usually gets them on their feet pretty quickly. Apparently, she didn't know The SnakePit went out of business years ago.

"Just a moment please." She said, jumping up and almost running to Les's office, no doubt.

Lula pulled me to the side. "Lula Vongard?" she said, shocked.

"I don't know your last name, Ok?" I said in a whisper. "I didn't want ask right in front of her. It was the first thing that came to me. I made it up."

"Well. That is a stupid last name." She paused. "I don't really know my last name; I think I am going to keep that one. I can right? Keep it?" She looked at me hopefully.

"What does it say on you drivers license?" I asked. I never knew anyone who didn't have a last name.

"I only have the one name." She said. "Ya know, like "Prince. Cher, and Bono". Instead of holding up the line at the public safety office, they just used "Smith". I like Vongard better. I am now Lula Vongard." She looked at herself in the mirror and repeated it several times. "I wonder if I have any relatives."

"Miss Plum? Miss Vongard? Mr. Seabring will see you now." She pointed down the hall.

"Last door on the right." She said, walking back to her desk.

"Thank you, sugar. You are sweet" I said to her with a fake southern accent. I didn't know if all dancers used a drawl, but if I was a dancer or a streetwalker ho, I would. You gotta make it a little fun.

Lula and I walked down a wide hallway. Photographs adorned most of the wall space along each side. As we walked, I looked at them. Les Seabring was a prizewinning tennis player, and he won numerous trophies for racing his yacht. He even played polo. He had pictures of himself cutting ribbons at new stores with mayors and council members of Trenton. The pictures ranged from the late 1960's until recently. He was big in the community. Politicians were probably on first name basis with this man. I had always envied him. But, there was no way on God's green Earth he would have ever let me do skip tracing for him, so Vinnie was still better. I knocked on the door.

"Come in" Les said in a deep booming voice. He was about 65 years old, but he honestly looked more like 43. He had charisma and charm. He was taller than Ranger, and he was even taller than Joe. I would say around six-foot two. He was deeply tanned from actual time spent in the sun. He also was known to have the best set of legs in all of New Jersey, but everyone knows that.

Les's office, like the building was really nice. It had a view of downtown, and I bet on a clear day you could see the ocean, (if buildings weren't in the way). His desk was solid oak. His office had a sense of calm. On the walls were framed awards and more pictures of him with prominent people in the community. I thought he did a lot more for himself than just having a bonds company. It said securities on the door. I wondered what kind of securities they were.

Les Seabring sat at his desk, his back to the window. He seemed relaxed. We sat opposite him in high back leather chairs. Les brought out a candy dish and a package of chocolate mints. He opened the package and poured them in.

"I saved these from our office Christmas party. I hope that's ok?"

Lula smiled, taking one of the mints he handed her.

"Let me take a wild guess here, Stephanie. You are here to ask me about Jeanne Ellen."

"What can you tell me about her?

Les leaned back in his chair. "The police were here days ago. They asked all kinds of questions. I am afraid they were disappointed with my knowledge. I don't think you will feel any different. Jeanne Ellen was a very private person. She has worked for me, oh going on twelve years, give or take. She is the type of person who takes her work home with her. She is all business, all the time. From what I knew, she had no friends or even acquaintances here at the office. I am here nine to five, Monday thru Thursday. Friday I take the day off to golf. She was here when she needed to pick up files. Sometimes we would go out on cases together, especially if the case was pertaining to a custody bond. There is a lot of paperwork for those cases, and everything has to be just so. The morning I found her, we were supposed to check on one of our clients. I was to meet her at her apartment building very early. I had called, and her phone went to voice mail. Not at all like Jeanne. I went over to check on her. I believe you know the details after that."

"In all the times you went on case runs with her, did she ever mention anyone she was seeing? Did she ever confide in you about any problems she was having?"

"Never once in the entire time I knew her did we have a personal conversation. She was all about being professional. She kept her private life, private. I respected that. I don't really want to hear about personal problems my employees have. I like to have a working relationship only. I don't need details about how someone spends their off time." Les smiled. "I can tell you that it was a shock to find her, and everyone here at the office was upset. If you ask if anyone was overly upset to the point that I felt they may have a personal relationship, I would say no."

"Would it be ok if we asked around the office, see if anyone knew more about Jeanne?"

"I think that would be ok, as long as you don't interrupt them while they are working. Why the interest? I thought the police were pretty satisfied they arrested the right person. I have to say, I was relieved when I heard that they had a suspect so early on. Ranger Manoso always seemed like a loose cannon to me. From what I hear, the case is pretty much open and shut."

"I don't think any case is open and shut." I said. I was feeling like his answers were a little rehearsed. Like he knew someone would eventually ask him more questions.

He looked at me seriously. "You don't believe he did it, do you?" He leaned forward, interested.

"It's too easy to blame Ranger. From what I understand, Ranger was trained by Jeanne Ellen. If the circumstances were reversed, would you think Jeanne would be that stupid? Leave fingerprints, and security footage? She would have been a ghost. He would have been the same. They had a lot in common. Ranger wouldn't have been that careless."

He studied me. "You're right about that. I would have never suspected Jeanne if the tables were turned. She would never have left evidence." He paused for a moment. He stared straight at me, holding my eyes. "What about a crime of passion? If he was upset, he could have gotten sloppy."

"Maybe, but too many things don't add up. I think he is being set up. I am hoping to find out why."

"Honestly, Stephanie, he seems like the right guy. I mean, from what I've heard, Ranger was seeing her. At least that is what I am being told. He finds out she is seeing someone else, or that she is cheating on him, or I dunno maybe she makes him the wrong kind of soup, who knows why people freak out. He was in the army, maybe he had some sort of psychotic episode and he freaked out and thought she was the enemy. Boom, he kills her. Then, realizing what he's done, he freaks out and leaves without getting rid of the evidence. It happens all the time."

"Jeanne had a lot of enemies. I was hoping you could shed some light on what her every day schedule was like."

Les nodded. "I am not sure what you mean about enemies. Jeanne worked the cases for me, but she rarely had any threatening mail come in this office. Suzy brings me up to date on all things that pertain to my employees."

"Jeanne worked for other people besides you, Les. She made a lot of people angry through the years. It is very possible someone killed her because of something that happened in her past. She was seeing a woman named Mary. Did she ever have any visitors that you can remember? Mary is a muscular gal, about your height. Do you remember anyone like that?"

Les's eyebrows rose in surprise. "A woman? I would never have guessed."

I talked to her. She is pretty sure that Jeanne was seeing someone else. Mary said Jeanne broke it off with her so she could pursue another relationship. She said it was with a man."

Les picked up a pen from his desk and studied it. "This Mary character told you this?"

I nooded. "She told her she wanted to change her life for this person. She also told Mary she was pregnant."

Les looked up in surprise. "Pregnant?" I watched closely to his reaction. He looked shocked. He sat back in his chair.

"The forensics lab confirmed it. She was two months pregnant."

He swiveled in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well, then I was pretty much in the dark about Jeanne and her life."

"Did she have any family here?" I asked as a last ditch effort. "Anywhere we can send flowers?"

"As far as I know, she did not have any family whatsoever. It was strange." Les said seeming to think about it for the first time. "No family. Makes you wonder."

I nodded…Yes, It certainly does. Les seemed a little irritated; it seemed he wanted to get this meeting over with as soon as possible.

"I'm truly sorry, Stephanie. I'm just not convinced it wasn't your friend Ranger. If she was pregnant, it seems only more obvious that the killer could have been him. The police seem pretty sure they have caught the right person."

The phone buzzed. "Mr. Hogan is here to see you, Mr. Seabring."

"Tell him to give me a few minutes."

"Of course, sir."

Les turned towards us. "From what I understand, her services will be next week. Suzy can give you the details. Maybe you will be able to find someone who knew her there."

We both got up. I shook Les's hand. "Thanks. I appreciate you seeing us."

Les handed me his business card. "If you need anything else, please call me. I would love to help."

"He may have great legs, but how can you work with someone for over twelve years and not get to know them even a little bit?" Lula said as she looked at all the pictures of Les on the wall in the hallway. "How is that possible? She didn't sound like a lot of fun. Who would want to date someone like that?"

Mr. Hogan walked past us and went into Les Seabring's office.

I had to agree. Over the years, no matter what, you find out little things about a person. And I had to wonder about his reaction to her being pregnant and dating a woman. It seemed his attitude changed. He went a little cold once he found out more about her. I wondered who Les really was. He seemed so together with his pictures and his accomplishments. But was he really like that?

Suzy was at her desk when we came into the front office. I decided to ask her about Jeanne. Just because Les didn't pay attention, doesn't mean other people didn't.

"Jeanne?" She said confused. "I thought you were from the SnakePit."

"Would you have let us through if we just wanted to talk to Les?"

"No. Mr. Seabring Is very selective about who he wants to talk to."

"See? What about Jeanne Ellen? Do you know anything about her? Was she friends with anyone in the office? Did she seem overly upset lately? Did she ever talk to you?"

"I hardly knew who she was. She would walk in, get her cases from Les and walk out. She purposely said hello and goodbye. Sometimes she would go into her office. It is just horrible what happened."

"Her office? She has an office here?"

"First door on the right is her office. Sometimes she would stay in there all day; sometimes we never saw her for weeks."

"Can we see it?" I said hopefully. I was excited now. This might be the break we needed.

"Yeah. Sure, I guess. Maybe I should ask Mr. Seabring."

"You probably should ask, but isn't he with a client?"

She looked past her desk towards Les's office. "He hates to be interrupted. Are you helping the police find out who killed her?"

"We are. It would be a big help if we could just get a look at her office. It won't take but a few minutes. I just want to see where she worked, that sort of thing."

We followed behind her as she opened up Jeanne Ellen's office door.

"Did the police know about this office?" I said.

"The police? I doubt it. I wasn't here the day they came through. I don't know if anyone else noticed who had offices and who didn't. I am the only one who had the keys, and I keep my desk locked." She said with authority. Suzy wanted to keep her job.

"Why weren't you here when the police came through? If you don't mind me asking."

"No, that's ok. It's not a secret. They came over on Monday. Les lets me go home early Mondays. I have a baby, and his sitter has classes in the afternoon. It's really not that big a deal, Monday is usually slow anyways."

The phone started ringing at Suzy's desk. "Excuse me. I need to get that."

We waited till she walked away. I looked in the office. Jeanne Ellen had an office without a window. It looked like she wasn't big on decorating. Nothing personal on her desk or on the walls of the office. There was a two drawer file cabinet, a pressed wood desk with a blotter and a phone. There was a pen and pencil holder that had two pens inside. The holder probably came as a set with the blotter. The metal file cabinet was locked. I had some smaller keys on my key chain, and I tried them. The cabinet opened. Inside, there were numerous files, all looked to be in alphabetical order. The moment I saw them, I thought I should call Joe. I flipped through some, one caught my eye. "Edward Montoya." What was Edwards name doing in Jeanne's cabinet?

"What are you doing?" It was Suzy.

I shut the cabinet. "It was open, I was just looking."

"I happen to know that all the cabinets on this floor are always locked. I think I should call Mr. Seabring."

I grabbed Lula's hand. She had been admiring a statue of an eagle on Jeanne's desk and I pulled her out of the office.

"I am not sure it was ok for me to let you in here. You should leave."

"Ok." I said. "But I have a deep feeling the cops are going to want to look at those files."

She looked at the cabinet and walked us back to the elevator.

When the doors shut, I called Joe.

"Stephanie Plum. It's been a few days. You're slowing down."

"You need to have a team over to Les Seabring's office." I said, ignoring his sarcasm. "Jeanne has an office here. You might find something."

"We went through what they had there already." He said quickly.

"I don't think this office was on the tour. The secretary said she wasn't here the day the police came to talk to Les. She is the only one that had spare keys."

"Did you see the office?"

"Only for a moment."

"Did you touch anything?"

"Maybe. The office secretary caught me looking in the file cabinet. She threw us out."

"So, we will need a warrant?"

"Probably."

"Where are you now?"

"Waiting on someone to get here with a warrant."

"I'll send someone over as soon as I get one." Joe said, and hung up.

I sat on one of the benches in the lobby. Why would Jeanne Ellen have a file on Edward Montoya? I wanted to take that file. I really wished Suzy wouldn't have walked in.

"How long does it take to get a warrant?" Lula asked.

I shrugged. I had seen the cops on TV get warrants within the commercial break, but in real life, and with someone as high up the food chain as Les seemed to be? I had no idea.

"Should we wait?"

"I want to talk to who ever goes through the office. I need to know why Jeanne had that file."

While we waited, we went to the coffee house and then to the deli. I was getting restless. I called Joe back.

"Well? No one has been here."

"Believe it or not, it wasn't high priority to the judge we went to. We just got the warrant. Are you still there?"

"We are waiting downstairs."

I closed the phone and put it back on the table.

"What did he say?" Lula said. "Is he coming over with the warrant or not? My butt is falling asleep. I don't know why we need to be here anyway."

I saw an SUV pull up. Tank got out. "You called Tank?"

"I figure you have things under control. You don't need me. Tank said he would take me out to Dinner."

"You had three lunches. You said you were going to skip dinner."

"I figured it out, I wont eat tomorrow. That will solve everything."

I watched her walk out to meet Tank. I was considering just going back upstairs and figuring out a way to get back in the office myself. The warrant was taking too long. I could have pulled the fire alarm. Anything was better than waiting for the Calvary to show up.

I saw a white van pull up in front of the building. The passenger side door opened and Trisha got out. The driver was a man I had never seen. He opened up the slide and picked up a suitcase. Trisha picked up a bag and followed him in. I walked out to meet them. Trisha greeted me with an icy stare.

"Stephanie, this is agent Decker. Agent Decker, Stephanie Plum. She has been doing her own investigating of the Manaso/Burrows case. She does not work for us." She smiled at me. "I just want him to be clear on that."

I smiled sweetly to Agent Decker. "FBI?"

Agent Decker ignored me and hit the button for the fourth floor.

"Can I talk to you for one second?" I said to Trisha.

She looked over at Decker, and then walked over to me.

"Look, I have been waiting here for hours for someone to show up."

"Stephanie, no one told you to wait. You could have left."

"I needed to speak to whoever went into her office."

"Well, here I am." She said holding up her hands.

"There is a locked file cabinet. Inside I saw a file that could be important."

"We won't be sharing information with you, Stephanie. I don't know where you got that kind of information."

"What is your problem?"

"The FBI has taken over the case. I'm not even supposed to be here. I rode along because I asked to assist. You being here is making me look bad." She whispered. "What is the file your interested in?"

"Edward Montoya." She looked surprised. "The kid who worked for Ranger?"

"Yeah, I saw his name on one of the files. I don't know what the hell that is about. It might be important."

"Ok. All I can do is try to get a look at it. No promises."

She walked away, and I watched the doors to the elevator shut in front of them. My mind kept going back to the file. Why did she have a file on him, and who else did she have a file on?

I left Les Seabrings office confused. I wasn't expecting to find an unsearched office, and I thought Les's reactions were a little off. I wanted to talk to the team at Rangeman. Fill them in on what I had come up with. Ranger said to use the team, and I planned on it. I was very aware that I had no one watching my back. This wasn't the first time I felt I was out on a limb.

Tank was back on duty. The third floor was running smooth.

I walked up behind him. I watched him as he worked on a small computer and talk on the phone. He was having a conversation via-Bluetooth with a security officer at one of the locations. He looked over at me.

"We had an attempted break in at the MacArthur house. They broke a window, but didn't get any further. The alarm and security lights went on. A patrol is over there now." Tank paused, said thank you to the patrol, and disconnected from the call. "How did the apple turnovers work out?"

"They were devoured. Thank you for saving the day."

He smiled at me. "Anytime."

"Where's Lula? She said you were taking her to dinner."

Tank looked at his watch. "I dropped her at her apartment. We have reservations for eight."

"Eight?" I raised my eyebrows.

"She is hoping that after six, she can reset her diet and it can be counted for the next day." He smiled. "Don't even say it."

I changed the subject. I didn't think Tank needed me to tell him Lula's ideas were a little obscure. "I need to set up a meeting with the team."

"That is a good idea. Give me a half hour, Stephanie. I will set it up in the conference room."

Ranger's team consisted of all the men that had worked with me on many occasions. They are also the ones Ranger trusts the most. They were all partners in Rangeman, and they were also his friends. One side of the table sat Hal, Lester and Cal. The other side of the table was Tank, Ramon and I.

"Stephanie thinks it is time that we knew what she has come up with on Ranger's case. I also think it is a good idea to get everyone up to date, so we know what to focus on next." Tank sais, looking at all of us.

"So," Ramon said. "How did it go with the dessert? You don't think you can get away with not telling us which one your family liked best are you?"

Lester let out a grunt. "I can't believe you didn't let me in on this."

"Me either. Stephanie, you should have come directly to me. I would have set you up, girl." Cal said.

"Everything you guys made was eaten so fast, I think it was a tie. You guys rock, You totally saved me by doing that."

"Just so you know," Lester said, "We want in next time."

"Alright, enough. Stephanie wants us all to be aware of what has been happening. I think it is a good idea to put our heads together and see if we can help out." Tank said, taking control of the table.

Everyone turned their attention to me. I went through all I had learned about Jeanne Ellen's extracurricular activities. Including her affair with Mary Maggie and the boyfriend, and how she was pregnant.

I told them about my conversation with the FBI man. And that she knew there were people out to get her. I told them I thought she relied heavily on her security system, and it was likely what got her killed, just like Ranger had said. He felt responsible for turning it off. I don't think he knew just how much she depended on it to keep her safe.

"Did the mafia know about Jeanne Ellen?" Cal said.

"I think they knew, but it may have been like it was with Rangeman. Know your enemy. The man I talked to said Jeanne Ellen always had hit men after her. She took care of them before they got in the way. There was one guy that she hadn't killed. "Tony the Tool". I think he was assigned to her. I don't know If he was supposed to kill her or just watch her. He was found dead a few days ago. From what I understand, he could have been killed the same morning as Jeanne."

"Maybe she killed him when she found him watching her." Ramon said.

I never thought of that. I guess it was possible.

"Connie's uncle found Tony in a storage container. He called Connie. They had me call in the murder in exchange for tapes that Tony had made while he was doing surveillance on Jeanne Ellen."

"Where are the tapes now?" Tank said.

"I'm still waiting for them. Her uncle said they had to make sure there was nothing incriminating on them. He said they would call me with a location of the tapes in a couple days. I haven't heard back from him yet."

"So all the sudden, she dumps her girlfriend and decides to run off with this guy she falls in love with? She is pregnant and is starting her life over. If that was true, why did she start freaking out over Ranger calling things off?" Cal said confused.

"Was this Ranger's kid? Maybe it would be the reason she wanted to talk to him so badly." Hal said.

"DNA says no." I said.

"Doesn't mean that she didn't think it was his."

Ok, he had a point. But the timing was wrong.

"So "Tony the Tool" is found at the docks." Tank said, trying to get all the information straight. "Connie's Uncle calls you and makes a deal. He says Tony was doing surveillance on Jeanne the night she was murdered. He has the tapes. You call in the body, and he will give you the tapes."

"Right."

"Should we assume that means the tapes were evidence that Tony killed Jeanne?"

"Maybe, except if that happened, how did he end up dead at the docks?"

Ramon scratched his head. I was glad to know it wasn't just me who found this whole thing confusing.

Tank was the first to speak. "You went and talked to Les. What happened?"

"For one, he has a nice building that he manages. Multiple floors all leased out to different businesses. The top floor is his office. There are lots of cubicles, but I saw very few people working them. He has a receptionist a lot like Connie. She keeps a handle on who walks in the door. Lula and I met with him. He was nice, but his answers to my questions seemed rehearsed. He said he did not know anything about Jeanne's personal life. He didn't know much of anything, actually. When I told him she was dating Mary Maggie and that she was pregnant and wanted to change her life, he became slightly agitated . Not overly, but he crossed his arms and changed his approach. Suddenly he wanted to end the meeting."

Tank looked kind of confused. "Les has worked with her for at least 10 years, and he knows that little about her?"

"He said didn't want to know anything about his employees. He said she kept her personal life personal. But when I mentioned to him about Mary Maggie and the pregnancy, he seemed irritated."

"You may have found the boyfriend." Tank said.

It was exactly what I was thinking. "He acted overly surprised about the pregnancy, almost sad. Before he was telling us how he knew nothing about her. If that was true, why be surprised and upset about what she did outside the office?"

"Did you tell him she was working for the FBI?"

"Yeah, but he didn't act surprised. But I suppose I could have missed the reaction."

"So," Cal said. "If she was informing on us, and the mafia, maybe she was informing on him too."

"It's possible."

"On the way out of the office, I talked to his receptionist. I asked her about Jeanne. Her story coincides with Les. She never stayed very long. She would be in with Les, picking up files for a few minutes, and then would leave. She said she was always courteous. She told me Jeanne had an office. The police had no idea that Jeanne Ellen had an office at Seabring's. I was able to get the key from her. I called it in to Joe; I knew that the police needed to search it. Before they got there, I found a file for Edward Montoya."

Tank looked at me sharply. "Edward Montoya from RangeMan?" I could swear Tanks eyes turned black. He was truly angry. "Did you get the file?"

"The receptionist caught me breaking into the file cabinet. We were escorted out of the building before I could grab it. Trisha was part of the team that went upstairs. They had to get a search warrant. It took hours. She wasn't real happy I was still there waiting for them. I asked her if she could let me know about Edwards file."

"Do you think she will?"

"Maybe. But I'm not counting on it."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Tank leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath. "None of what you've found so far gets Ranger out of deep shit. Actually, I think you're sinking him. I want to believe that there is a light at the end of the tunnel here, but so far, all I can see is a one way ticket to screwed." Tank folded his arms and looked at the control center. Keeping an eye on everything was a full-time job.

"Why do you think that she had a file on Edward?" Tank asked. "Do you think Jeanne Ellen was keeping tabs on him too?

I didn't have an answer for him. I wish I did.

"If there is ever a next time, swipe the file." Tank said. "We can give it back later."

"Could Jeanne Ellen have kept information on Eddie because she was using him to get to Rangeman?" Lester asked. "We had directed her calls to his desk, maybe she sweet talked him into looking into the business. Maybe he was her mole. It would explain how she was able to get through our security so easily."

"That's a good point. If it's true, she must have been grabbing at straws. We have been running legit for years now." Tank said looking over at me. "Still, our main concern is getting my boss out of jail. We need those tapes."

The file on Eddie Montoya bothered me. I couldn't get past it. I walked over to his desk. It sat undisturbed in the corner. His family had not been here to claim his things. There was no rush; there were plenty of other desks to use. Plus, it was still an open wound. The fact that no one noticed he was missing, gave people pause. Eddie was family, as I was. No one wanted to be the person who put his things away. Suicide was hard. Not only for the family of the person, but also for the friends and co-workers who felt they didn't do anything to stop it from happening. No one had questioned the police or coroner's report. Eddie committed suicide. There would be no investigation. It was a closed case. If Eddie had secrets, maybe there would be clues at his desk. It was worth a shot. There had to be a tie in for him and Jeanne.

I sat down in his chair and leaned back. I swiveled back and forth trying to imagine him sitting here doing his work, answering phones and possibly hiding things. If he had a relationship with Jeanne, or if he was trying hard to impress her, he would want to give her things that she asked for. He probably wanted to please her. He was a young kid. If she showed him any sort of attention whatsoever, it might have been all the encouragement he needed. Of course it was possible he had something in his past that made her suspicious of him, and she could have been just keeping an eye on the new guy.

I had used his desk numerous times in the last week. When I couldn't sleep, I worked on some of the reports that sat in the inbox. His desk had one long drawer that was positioned below the blotter and the standard three desk drawers that sat on each side, left and right. All the drawers were either almost empty or had normal office supplies. There were some files for the company, forms and documents. There was a drawer that had unused software, instruction manuals and a box for a mouse. No secret compartments. Nothing suspicious when I pulled the drawers out completely.

I got up, still not satisfied that I had looked everywhere. I pulled out the chair and looked under the desk. In grade school, this would be where you stuck your discarded bubblegum. I lay down flat so I could see the underside from all angles. When I looked underneath the desk, I found a tiny mark that I had to squint to see.

Ramon crouched down on the other side of the desk. He was looking at me strangely. "Are you ok?"

I slid out from under the desk. "There has to be a connection between Jeanne and Eddie. I thought I would search his desk."

"Find anything?"

"Slide under there." I said pointing to the underside of the desk. "I think I see something carved."

"Something carved? Under the desk?"

I moved out-of-the-way and Ramon slid under. "J+E. Does that mean Jeanne + Edward?" He asked. "What the hell." I saw him touch the carving. "It's a false bottom." He moved the bottom of the desk some more and it slid out, dropping fairly easily. Inside was paperwork, keys, keypads, manuals and what looked to me like blueprints. I found a box. We dumped everything inside.

"What was this kid up to?" Ramon said as he looked through the box.

I picked up keys and keypads. Each one was labeled with a number. "I wonder if these work for the Rangeman vehicles. What is all this stuff?" I asked.

Ramon thumbed through the paperwork. "It looks like most of this is from Rangeman. Not normal paperwork either. This is personal shit. It's not supposed to be out in the open. I think Tank needs to see this."

We found him just as he was about to leave for his dinner with Lula. He had changed his clothes and now wore a button down black and white shirt and black dress slacks with black loafers. Ramon gave him the box and told him where we found it. He called security. Then he called and canceled dinner. Lula wouldn't be happy. She was hoping to attach another dinner coupon to her meal schedule.

Tank picked up one of the sets of keys. "We need to find out if these are dupes of our keys." He pulled out his keychain and began examining the similarities. There were fifteen keys that looked like car keys. He handed one of the keys to Ramon with his own car key. Ramon looked at it closely. "Looks like a match to me."

The security guard on duty was named Jeremy. I had only seen him in the security booth and not standing up. I never realized that Jeremy was so tall. He was a monster of a man. I felt like an honest to God dwarf next to him. He had to be at least seven foot-two. I think I came up to his kneecap. Jeremy was the supervisor of the team that worked security detail for Rangeman and because of this, he was a little on edge. There was a team of five that watched the building, not including Jeremy. Two were always at the monitors. It was a little overkill, but since the breach with Jeanne, everyone had doubled up. No one was comfortable with the knowledge that Rangeman was taken down so easily.

Jeremy checked the contents of the box. "What exactly am I looking at here?" He said picking up some of the paperwork.

Tank stood next to him. "Looks to me like things that shouldn't be hidden in employees desks."

Jeremy picked up what looked like a computer printout of names and numbers. It was very possible these were Social Security numbers, credit card information or possibly codes for getting into the computers. His face flushed red. "Show me where you found these." He said in a booming voice.

He crouched down and tried to look under the desk, but he was too tall to get his limbs to cooperate at that level, so he lay on the ground as I did, and held a small penlight up into the bottom of the desk. "If this guy was doing construction under his desk, why wasn't it caught on tape?"

Tank looked around. "The video camera is right there. You guys had an eye on him 24/7, you tell me."

Jeremy looked uncomfortable. He took out his phone and called to the main floor. He walked away from the crowd so he could freak out on his people in private. As he did, he walked over to the camera and stood on a chair so he could see it up close. He closed his phone.

"I think I know how this went unnoticed." Jeremy said, getting down from the chair. He left us standing by the camera for a moment. When he came back, he had a ladder. He climbed up to the camera and disassembled the device that held it to the wall and took the camera down. It looked all right to me, but there was something attached on the back. A little black box.

"This." he said pointing to the box. "Is not supposed to be here. It is possible that the feed from this camera is being directed to another location, and sending a fake image to us in the booth."

Tank and Ramon stood looking at the box. "That's old school equipment." Ramon said. "The newer stuff is much smaller and harder to detect. If Eddie got this stuff, he got it second-hand." He turned it over in his hands. "If he was able to do this, that means he could have hacked into our systems the whole time he worked here. Why would Rangeman hire that much of a security risk? I would really like to know how he managed to get a job here if he was that capable of mutiny." Ramon said, looking back at the desk and the box of secrets.

"Is there a way to track where the feed was coming from?" I said, looking closely at the device attached to the back of the camera.

Jeremy nodded. "We have a technician flying in regarding the breach. They should be here in the morning. RangeMan has been breached three times in less than a month. There are a lot of customers who are not going to be happy with that kind of record. If you will excuse me, I have some work to do." He thundered off, taking the stairs. I could swear the floor shook with his every step.

There was a lot of confidential paperwork lying on the conference table in front of me. Sifting through it, I noticed that Edward had a bunch of blueprints folded neatly in the rubble. It looked like original works and not copies. I had worked briefly with the county office in Trenton. They had numerous original blueprints of buildings throughout the city. There was a certain look to the originals that copies did not have. Unfolding them I found five sets. One was a large map blueprint of the RangeMan building. It had circled out sections. I looked at them closely. Edward had circled all the exits and from what I could tell, all the places that had safes. Next to these were the codes.

I picked up another set of blue prints. From the address on the top of the document I knew these were from Les Sebring's office. Another, for the police station, and the other two were buildings I didn't know. Hal and I tried to separate Rangeman documents from the others. There was financial records for both RangeMan and Seabring. Statements and copies of pink slips, deeds, and court records. We stood looking at the information on the table. What was he up to?

Tank called Les immediately. It was professional courtesy. Les was being watched, just like RangeMan. It was no surprise that he wanted a meeting. He would be here within the hour. I thought I would sit this one out. I couldn't imagine he would be happy that the FBI was back in his office today. Especially since I didn't give him a heads up.

I stayed in Ranger's private office. From here I could see Les walk into the conference room. He had changed from his business suit to casual clothing. A Hawaiian shirt and khaki pants with loafers. I could smell Rangers Bvlgari scent still on the chair I sat in. I touched the armrest, wishing it was him. I closed my eyes hoping that when I opened them, Ranger would be here. Of course it didn't work, even when I clicked my heels together.

Tank walked Les out an hour later. He shook Tank's hand and hit the button for the elevator. His hands went to his pockets, and I watched him until the doors closed. Tank came in to Rangers office. He leaned on the door jam.

"So, how'd it go?" I asked.

"Ok." Tank said. "He's pissed off about the warrant. Now, he is even more pissed off that one of Rangeman's employees had information on him. We may be looking at a lawsuit."

"Did he seem overly upset about Jeanne being friends with Edward?"

"Hard to tell. But his body language tells me he is furious."

"Did you show him a picture of Eddie?"

Tank shook his head yes. "He didn't act like he recognized him. He was concerned about the information going out to the police. I told him our lawyer Mr. Rosewall would handle it and make sure there is nothing that goes to the Feds that could be evidence against him or us. I also told him it would be a good idea if he changed all the security codes in his building."

Tank got on the phone. Michael Rosewall needed to be here to take care of all the legal issues. I was aware that none of this information did anything to help with Rangers case. One thing for sure, Edward didn't kill Jeanne. So who did?

I went up to Ranger's apartment and I called the police station and asked to talk to Trisha. I was transferred over to her desk. She must have caller I.D.

"Stephanie, how are you?" She said and then whispered, "Officially I am not supposed to be talking to you. There was no file that had his name on it."

"What do you mean?" I said surprised.

"Just what I said. The file cabinet had some skips files and projects she was handling for Les, but nothing that you asked me to look for was there. I am sorry, I have to go." She hung up.

I was left slack-jawed and silently cussing. I sat there staring at the phone, trying to wrap my mind around what she just had said to me. There were at least fifty files. It wasn't possible that I was mistaken. Those files were there. We left Jeanne's office unattended and went down stairs to call Joe. For two hours it was probably open for anyone who wanted to walk in and take them. If Trisha was telling the truth, someone snatched that file before the police came in. Saying that I was pissed off at myself for not getting that file would be an understatement. On the other hand, it meant that Suzi or Les Seabring were probably the only ones who could have swiped the files.

I called Trisha Back "When you went in today, did you see any other employees besides the receptionist and Les?"

"We saw the receptionist. We didn't see Les. Suzi told us that he had left for the day."

I wanted that file. It was possible it was still there. Maybe in Les's office. I needed to figure out a way to get into Seabring's without anyone knowing. I would need help doing it.

I went downstairs to tell Tank that the file was missing. He was standing with Hal, Lester, and Ramon. They were talking quietly as they stood watching over the control center. Even running at minimum, RangeMan had at least ten employees on the floor. Some of them I knew by first name, and some I had only said hello to once or twice. They all knew who I was well enough. I had worked here many times. There was a certain amount of trust that came with working with these people. They never held back with anything. Ranger had told them I could be trusted, and that was all they needed.

Tank saw me walking over; he made room in the circle for me, welcoming me as part of the team. They had totally accepted me as part of the group."Michael will be here at nine." Tank said looking at his watch. "We are going to be running late tonight. I already started a pot of coffee." He looked at me and folded his arms. "With all the developments to this case, I think we need someone from the police to know what is going on. We are getting too much information too quickly. It would be a good idea if you could arrange to have Morelli and Trisha join us for the meeting. We need someone we can trust that is in the department."

"I just called Trisha. The file wasn't there. Someone took it."

"Well…" Tank said. "Who was on that floor, just Suzi and Les? Seems like we have two people who may have something to hide."

"I want to go back and search the 4th floor." I said looking at the whole team.

"Let's talk about that after the meeting." Tank said quietly.

I walked over to one of the cubicles and called Joe's cell phone.

"Don't tell me... Let me guess, you've solved the case." Joe said sarcastically.

I took a deep breath. If it was my choice, I wouldn't include Joe at all. "Hello to you too. What time are you off tonight?"

"If you call something else in, I may never see the inside of my house again." He said in a frustrated tone.

"I'm serious."

"Yeah? Well so am I. I've been off duty for three hours. I am still at the station, doing paperwork. Do you know how long it has been since I have gotten to sleep in my own bed? Three days, Stephanie. Three days. Do you realize I have had no alone time with my girlfriend in over five days? Do you get where I am going with this?"

Yeah, I got it loud and clear. I took another deep breath. "So you want me to apologize for you not getting laid? Is that what you want Joe? An apology?" I yelled back into the phone.

There was silence on the other end. "What are you calling about?" He said in a more civilized tone.

"Tank thinks it's time we brought someone in from the police. He isn't ready for it officially. He said since Ranger and I trust you, I should call and arrange a meeting. He said Trisha should come too."

"When is this supposed to happen?"

"Tonight at Rangeman. Nine. There will be passes at the security desk for both of you."

"That's in twenty minutes. We'll be there."

I went upstairs. I wanted to take a shower and eat something before the meeting. My head was pounding with all this new information. I wanted to be able to make some sense out of it all. I sat down on Rangers couch and grabbed my notebook. I proceeded to write down everything I could remember about the case.

Nine o'clock came quickly. I hadn't written much down. I grabbed the notebook and ran downstairs. I was five minutes late. Tank started the meeting as soon as my ass cheeks hit the chair.

"I want to first, thank everyone for coming in on such short notice, and I want to apologize for any inconveniences. Everyone here at RangeMan appreciates this immensely. We have found out more information and we would like to make sure that members of Trenton P.D. and our acting attorney have everything we have."

Joe looked tired. I think he had been working long hours with little sleep. I knew it wasn't just our case that was keeping him busy, but I knew that calling in details and tips was making more work for him. Joe leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. Trisha sat close next to him, but she sat forward waiting to hear about what we had learned. She had on a white business suit. I couldn't see that she was even showing yet. I knew her pregnancy was a big deal to Joe and his family. I also knew he was probably being edged towards marriage by his mother. He always wanted that anyway, and I wondered if he had popped the question yet. I looked at her finger. There was a ring. It was white gold. I hadn't noticed it today because she had on gloves for the search. I glanced back up. Joe was watching me. I smiled at him, happy he had asked and that she had said yes.

Tank began to speak again and I directed my attention back to him, grateful for the interruption. "Stephanie made contact with someone who may supply us with surveillance tapes from the night of Jeanne Ellen's murder. Apparently there was a lot going on in Jeanne's life. There was a tap on her phone and a man watching her residence. We have not received the tapes yet. If and when we do, we will be sharing them with the police and our lawyer, Mr. Rosewall. We are hoping these may help us to identify the killer of Jeanne Ellen Burrows and take Carlos Manoso off the suspect list."

I could tell by the look on Joe's face he thought that was an impossible scenario.

"Upon going on a routine check to Jeanne Ellen's workplace, Stephanie also found out that she had a private office no one knew about." Tank continued. "When Stephanie was there, she saw a file for a RangeMan employee by the name of "Edward Montoya." She did not take the file or disturb any of the others that were under it. Instead, she called the police, namely Joe Morelli and he sent over the crime lab to dust and pick up anything important. It is my understanding that the file is now missing. There was more than just the one file. Stephanie says that there was a stack. Possibly fifty or more, all labeled with names. She didn't go through them; she was interrupted by Les Seabrings receptionist Suzi Crawford. Stephanie had opened a file cabinet without permission, and apparently Suzi thought that she would get in trouble for letting them in the office to begin with. She escorted Stephanie and Lula out before they could look at the files or take any others with them.

There was a two hour window from when Stephanie went downstairs to when the police showed up with a search warrant. The only people who had access while Stephanie was downstairs as far as we know were the receptionist Suzi Crawford and Les Seabring."

Michael sat with his assistant. He had a recorder on and was taping everything Tank said so he could review it later. On the table was a pad of paper. He was jotting down notes as Tank spoke.

"Edward Montoya was an employee of RangeMan until a few weeks ago." Tank continued. "Ranger hired him personally. He was from his neighborhood, and he was doing well in school. He had expressed an interest in our company, and when he was old enough, Ranger brought him in as an intern. He has worked for us for about three years. A few weeks ago, Edward didn't show up for work. Ranger and Stephanie went over to check on him. They found him dead in his apartment."

Joe looked up with interest. He had been listening, letting it all flow though. When someone mentions death, that's his cue to listen more closely. He works homicide. It changes things.

"His death was labeled a suicide. Now we are wondering if that's the case. When Stephanie came back from Mr. Seabring's she searched Edward's desk here at RangeMan. She and Ramon found a false bottom underneath his cubicle with an engraved J+E. When Ramon touched it, the bottom shifted. He was able the slide it open. There was a large amount of unsecured data inside his desk. He had sets of keys, security codes, access numbers, and combinations for the office safes. Financial records, and even personal pink slips."

Tank paused, and brought out a large file folder. "He was not only collecting data and keys for RangeMan, he also had the same information on four other buildings. Les Seabring's office and the Trenton Police Station were two of them."

Tank handed it over to Joe. "That you may keep, The other files will need to be checked out by our attorney Mr. Rosewall before we can give them to you. I think it is possible that Edward Montoya's death was not a suicide. He could have been murdered, maybe because of what he was doing."

Joe picked up the file folder Tank had given him and opened it. "What is this exactly?" He started reading through the papers. "Access codes and alarm codes for the Police Station? How did he get these?" He picked up the blueprint and opened it.

"That is a blueprint of the entire police station." Trish said, holding part of the map. "Holy crap. How did he get this? What are these circles?"

"We think they are the codes to get into safes and maybe computer systems." I said.

"It's just a guess, but the blueprints he made for Rangeman had the same type of codes and numbers. All our codes listed on one map." Tank said.

"This needs to go to Internal Affairs. This is a really big deal." Joe said. "What did Edward Montoya do for you at RangeMan?"

"He did grunt work." Tank said. "He ran security checks on employees and also ran checks for our clients. He did the same job that Stephanie does when she works for us."

"When you hired him, did you have any idea he had these special skills?"

Tank shook his head. "We had no idea. We never had a problem with him. We just found out he rigged one of our security cameras. This is a big fricken' surprise to put it mildly."

"The J+E." Trisha said. I am assuming that Jeanne Ellen and Edward may have had an affair? Maybe he was giving information to Jeanne?"

"That is entirely possible." Tank said.

Joe took a deep breath and unfolded his arms. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, clearly not happy with what he was hearing. We were adding more to his already full plate. "The Edward Montoya case was not in our jurisdiction." Joe said. "You said it happened a few weeks ago? By now, his apartment may be rented out. It could be a crime scene." He started taking notes. He was shaking his head and muttering colorful words under his breath.

He looked up at me. "Stephanie, if Ranger isn't the one who killed Jeanne, you better watch your back. You're going to piss someone off. They will come after you." Joe said looking at me, worried. "If this Montoya guy was murdered and so was Jeanne Ellen, you could find yourself at the wrong end of a gun." He paused for a moment from writing. "Pierre, are you protecting her? Sounds like a lot of heat is on. She is going to be a target."

"She has her vest, and Lester is her shadow." Tank said, not fazed by Joe's use of his real name.

Joe turned his eyes to me. They where deep pools of brown. He looked concerned. Very concerned. It made me slightly uncomfortable. The room got too heavy. I was now the center of attention. I have no idea how we went from figuring out clues to focusing on me. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I don't think it mattered who was in the room. His eyes were serious, his voice was calm. "I know what you're thinking. You are getting a lot accomplished in a short amount of time, but you are putting a target on your back to get it. If Ranger's not the killer, than you are at serious risk."

It irritated me more than a bit to be the object of his concern. Maybe it was the tone of his voice, or maybe it was because it was late, but I didn't think that he had the right to tell me I wasn't being careful. "I've been careful, and I have kept you informed of everything, according to you, more than I should."

"You are digging into a case without backup."

"I had backup. Lula was with me."

Joe shook his head. "Lula? That was your backup?" He put his head in his hands trying to get a grip. "Look. I will give you this; you are really good at deductive theory. You have the uncanny ability to find out things before we do, but you are not paying enough attention to whom you are pissing off. You are not at all concerned about your well being. That is what scares Carlos, and that is what scares me. You take a lot of risks. It's scary being next to you when you are out in the field. I always felt like a target. If someone were to tell you to go jump off a cliff, I sincerely believe you would think about it."

I sat back in my chair, a little defeated. I glared at Joe. Sure, he was trying to make me think about my safety, but I had no threats on my life. No one was out to get me that I knew of. He needed to chill out.

The room was silent. Michael laughed. "You guys have no idea, do you?"

I looked over at him, surprised at his outburst. He completely threw me off guard.

"It's one thing to fear for someone's safety. It's another to treat someone like a second class citizen. You guys are borderline here. Stephanie is a first-rate detective on this case. She seems like she has everything under control and it seems to me she has done all the work. All you seem to do is complain about it. She is like a hound after a scent. I don't know many people with that much passion. Give her some martial arts training and a course in police tactical maneuvers. Train her. Don't belittle her. She has skills. I just hope Ranger realizes it more than you seem to."

I think my face turned beet red. I couldn't believe he said that.

Tank and Joe just stared at him. "Let's just go with what we were discussing." Joe said. "I don't believe Michael has had the pleasure of the full Stephanie Plum effect yet. He hasn't felt the power of the dark side. Let him idle in the moment. Lets see if he feels the same way when he has had three or four cars blow up, His house firebombed, his garage explode and had his life in danger. Let's not forget having to find a kidnapped Plum five times." He held up his fingers for effect. "I don't think he can justly decide in this matter."

When it was put that way, I did not look like such a hot detective… Well. It was nice while it lasted.

Joe turned his attention back to the group. I guess he made his point pretty clearly. "I don't know what I can find out about the Edward Montoya's apartment." Joe said. "I do know that if it has only been a few weeks, then the apartment might still be held. Trisha doesn't work that area, so if we get anything from it, she will be last to know.

Until we know this is connected to Jeanne Burrows, I am not included in the findings. I need to go in and give all this information to my lieutenant. I am sorry, but I am not doing that tonight. Tonight I am going home. Don't call me. I am officially off duty and I am not answering the phone. Call someone else. Call Eddie Gazarra, call Carl. Just don't call me. Tomorrow, maybe."

Joe and Trisha said they would get back to us about anything that they found out. Joe said he was doubtful that his lieutenant would be keen to us getting any information, but Joe said he would do it anyway. He took the folder and they walked back to the elevator hand in hand.

I watched them go, and then I thanked Michael for coming in.

"You know, if you weren't already spoken for, I would ask you out. You are one interesting lady, Stephanie Plum. I look forward to helping you out of any other problems you end up getting into."

I watched him walk away.

"You know, I am not sure that was a compliment, or an offhanded way to say your insane." Ramon said standing next to me.

I turned and smiled at Ramon as I walked away. "Maybe it was a little of both."

I looked at myself in the full length mirror in Rangers bathroom. I had on black cargo pants and a black tank top. I pulled on a solid black hoodie, black socks and my black Cat boots. If I was going to be doing this, I didn't want anyone to see me. I had to say, I looked pretty wicked in all black. I admired myself in the mirror. I posed pretending to be James Bond, then I posed pretending to be a super sexy cat burglar. I needed red lipstick to complete the effect, but I didn't have any. To bad. I had been running just about every morning with either Lester or Ramon. I could see the difference the routine had made on my body and I was thankful that they had pushed me to continue the routine even when I wanted to quit.

Tonight we were going to break into Les Seabring's office building. I knew that there was always a chance we would have to leave in a hurry. Being in better shape would keep me from getting caught. I holstered my Sig Sauer in a black nylon strap-on leg holster. I put my mini pepper spray and my knife in the pockets of the pants and I pulled on a black skull-cap. I took a deep breath. A tiny black pen light went in one of the last pockets.

I walked down the stairs of RangeMan and met Tank and Ramon. Lester was staying behind to check our progress from RangeMan, and Hal was driving. Tank and Ramon were the smallest of the men at Rangeman. It wasn't saying much, because Tank was a big guy, just not as big as the rest of them. Ramon was the best electrician in New Jersey. He could arm and disarm a security system in less than a minute. He couldn't be big like the rest, or he wouldn't be able to do a lot of the work they needed him to do. He was the one who installed most of the security systems for the company. He had to be normal size to fit into small places and do complicated work for hours at a time. Lester and Hal were a lot bigger than both of them. Harder to hide, and slower.

We had all of Les Seabring's private codes and his keys, but we didn't want to take any chances. Ramon would disable everything. We were all dressed in black. We looked like The Mod Squad. Tank handed me a bulletproof vest. I put it on under the hoodie.

We climbed into a black SUV and headed out. Hal was to drop us off at a safe distance. Close enough for us to get out quick but far enough away to not look suspicious. If a police officer happened upon us looking like this, I don't know if we could talk our way out of being arrested. We looked like trouble, plain and simple.

He stopped the truck in between two buildings. He was going to stay mobile. We all had trackers, cell phones, and radios in our ears.

"Ok, here's the plan." Tank said quietly, crouching down next to the SUV. "Seabring's office has security cameras and a lightweight alarm system. According to the blueprints Edward had, Ramon knows exactly where those are and how to disarm them. He will disable the alarm and signal us. We are walking in the back door. Wear your gloves. Once inside we take the stairs to the 4th floor. RangeMan will be calling in to me in a few minutes. I had a heat scan run over the entire building. I want to make sure no one is home."

Tank's phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the text he received and put it back. "It's clear, let's move."

We each turned our radio's on and started off towards Seabring's. I walked fast, staying clear of sidewalks and lights. We were dropped about a mile from where we were going. I followed Tank down alleys and breezeways, keeping out of sight as much as possible. It was still warm outside even for 2 am. I was starting to sweat.

We were deep in the business district of Trenton. Tall glass covered buildings loomed overhead. As we walked through, sprinklers started coming on as we made our way towards the target. Some of the buildings had lights still on, making me wonder if there were actually people at work this time of night, or maybe a midnight cleaning crew. I wondered if Seabring had crews come in every night. It was something we hadn't thought of.

We crossed Hamilton, continued down Olden heading straight for Seabrings Securities and Bonds. Lights were on in some of the offices on the 4th floor. My heart skipped a beat as I worried about running into Les or someone else on that floor. I started getting scared about what we were about to do. I wanted to turn tail and review everything, but we were already in position, there was no turning back. This was our chance.

Ramon changed direction and Tank and I waited in the shadows for the signal that told us everything was disabled. My cold feet were getting colder, and I had to hold my tongue. I was seriously freaked about breaking into Les's office.

A car pulled into the parking lot. Over the radio I heard Ramon swear and Tank do the same. "Rosie's Cleaning Ladies" was written on the side of the car.

"Shit." Tank said. "Visitors. Ramon, heads up."

"I almost have the system down." Ramon said through the earpiece. "They won't notice when they use their passcards. Having them in the building is actually good, I will stay with them," he whispered. "Go now, through the back door."

We sprinted across the cement, avoiding the sprinklers. Tank and I stood in the shadows next to the door. He whispered "Back Door".

"Now." Ramon whispered. "Stairs are to your left."

Tank opened the back door ahead of me. Trying to control the butterflies in my stomach, I moved forward when I was told, scooting too close the door in fear that some unknown person would see. I was relieved when it closed and I was undetected. We moved forward towards the stairs. Tank was quick. He moved fluidly into the stairwell and he was up to the second floor before I navigated the first 4 steps. He was taking three steps at a time, I was taking one. I tried two. My legs would have to forgive me; I needed to stay with him no matter how much it hurt. By the time I got to the 4th floor, my legs were burning and I realized I was still no athlete. I knew why I had never joined the Army. I would have been laughed off the base. I was trying hard to catch my breath. Tank waited for me patiently. Cat burglars must have a healthy relationship with a gym.

Slowly, Tank opened the door to the 4th floor, telling Ramón where we were. He looked both ways before entering, checking to see if we were truly alone. My heart was pounding so loud from the run up the stairs I forgot I was scared.

"Which one is Les's office?" Tank whispered.

"Last door on the right from the reception area."

"Where is Jeanne's office?"

"Left, first door from the reception."

"Let's go there first." He said, stepping away.

Jeanne's office didn't have crime scene tape or any tape on the door telling you to keep out. The door was a jar. Inside was Jeanne's desk, but not a lot more. Everything had been removed.

I thought about the false bottom on Edward's desk at RangeMan and I ducked under hers to see if maybe they both used the same hidden storage. Sure enough, there was a hidden cubby. I was elated. I pulled it down and retrieved a stack of folders and papers and I handed them to Tank. The stack was at least 5 inches thick. He looked at it surprised and unzipped his pack and dropped them in. I looked for more, but found nothing else of use.

Next we moved into the reception area. Suzi's desk was neat and organized. It did not have any sign of a false drawer or bottom. Nothing to indicate she was part of any dastardly deed. Just a normal desk for a woman with a normal life.

We moved on to Les's office. He was a clean, neat man. The office was pristine. I was just about ready to give up the goose in his office when I spotted a picture that was on his desk. It looked strange. It didn't seem real, like a picture you would buy with a frame. I picked it up and opened the back. Inside, I found another picture hidden under a family portrait. It was a picture of Jeanne Ellen and Les Seabring on his boat "Whatever the Sea Brings". They held each other smiling into the camera lens. They seemed to be very much in love. She was wearing a white and red tank top and white shorts; He had on a green Hawaiian shirt and white shorts. The wind was blowing and they looked happy. The date on the back said it had been taken in May. Four months previous. I put the photo in my pocket. I was positive I now had the missing boyfriend and probably the father of Jeanne's unborn baby.

Tank walked in from another room with a trash can full of paper shreds. The paper looked like the ones we had just gotten from Jeanne's desk.

"I found a shredder. Someone used it on the folders." Tank said disappointed. "I will take the paper shred with us, but I don't know if it will help us much."

I showed Tank the picture I had found.

"The missing boyfriend" Tank said. He gave it back and I put it back in my pocket for safe keeping.

So Les was the boyfriend. He was probably the one who stole the files from Jeanne's desk, but was it to cover for Jeanne or to cover for himself? Before we left, we did quick searches of the remaining offices on the 4th floor. They were either empty or used for storage. I thought it was safe to say that we found what we were looking for. Now we just needed to get back out.

Tank talked to Ramon. "We're done. Anytime, Bud."

"Fifteen minutes. Wait for my signal. Then take the stairs quickly. Don't call me Bud." Ramon said quietly back.

We waited patiently for the signal. Ramon came back on the line whispering. "Someone else is here. They are pulling into the lot. Unknown people. By the look of the car, it might be your undercover FBI."

"How many?" Tank said concerned.

"Five. Leave now. I will meet you out back. Be quick."

We ran down the stairs. I almost fell I was moving so fast.

"Resetting alarm in one minute, get out the door." Ramon whispered in a hurried voice.

We flew out the back door and into the shadows. My legs were shaking badly. I watched as men in dark suits went to the front and back of the building. We watched as two men disabled the alarm that Ramon had just fixed.

I turned and almost jumped out of my skin. Ramon was next to me. He put his hand up to his mouth saying "shhh..." We were close, hiding behind a hedge. They were standing twenty feet away from us. We saw the men show the cleaners their badges as they opened the doors and walked in quickly.

I knew they were after the files we just took. We silently scurried away from the building hoping to be long gone before they realized the files were not there. Tank located Hal and we piled in and quickly got the SUV rolling.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

I wasn't at ease until we were on the third floor of the RangeMan building. I kept watching the security camera's. Waiting for the men we saw at Seabring's to pull in and surround us. Tank watched with me for a few moments, then went into the conference room and dropped his pack onto the table. I followed him in. He pulled out the files we had recovered and put the shredded documents in a box. I knew Edward's file was in there. I also knew it was unlikely we would ever get them back together enough to read what was in it.

Hal, Ramon, Lester, Cal and Tank stood together with me in the room. Seven files sat on the table in front of us. One file was thicker than the rest. R.C. Manoso/RangeMan was written across the top in bold block letters. Embossed underneath his name, An FBI insignia and shield. Ramon picked up the remaining six files. They all had the same insignia and bold block lettering. He dropped each on the table, reading the names.

"Lester Seabring, Ray Faxon, M.M. Mason, Mortius Feinstein, Eugene Marron, and Paul L. Banter."

"Paul Banter?" I said. This was a surprise. Across the top of the file, written in red was the word, "Closed." Next to it in smaller block letters, the initials "J.E.B.". Jeanne Ellen Burrows could have been J.E.B. "Is it possible that Jeanne Ellen was a fixer for the FBI?" I asked. Anyone working in the world of surveillance knew that it was possible the targets you watched could eventually become the person you killed. For snipers and covert operators, it was part of the job. It wouldn't be a very big leap from one to the other.

"I'm wondering the same thing." Tank said. "Maybe she was doing a lot more than just spying on these people. If she was working for the government, anything is possible. There are some jobs they throw at you that question your morals. The thing is, you don't have to take them. Jeanne had one hell of a background. I really wouldn't be all that surprised. Although, I don't want to believe that of Jeanne."

Neither did I, but why were these files hidden and the others out in the open? Maybe the files that were shredded into strips were not as delicate as the ones we had in our possession. Edward Montoya's file had the same insignia and block lettering as these did. Was his death really a suicide, or was Jeanne responsible? He would have been a threat. He had very special skills, and he knew a lot of information that could have gotten him killed, but his file was not hidden like these were.

Paul Banter was a Mafia hit. At least, I thought it was until right now. The initials J.E.B. had me wondering if I was wrong. Mr. Banter was still a problem. He just kept coming back into the equation. I keep thinking his case had been closed, and then he comes rolling back in. Thinking about it, I seriously hoped that was not how Joe thought of me.

Jeanne was investigating at least eight people. Any of those people could have found out about what she was doing, and went after her. And what about the numerous files that were underneath Edward's? Who else did she have information on?

"Who are these people?" Ramon said, looking at the pile in front of us. "Who is Eugene Marron, and why was she investigating him? What about Mortius Feinstein?"

"Ray Faxon is now Chief of Police in Trenton." Tank said. "He must have been important to the FBI for some reason. The police station blue prints were in with the documents we found in Eddie's desk. Faxon was probably a target or at least part of an investigation."

While we looked through the other files, Tank had picked up the one that said R.C. Manoso/RangeMan.

He shuffled through handwritten pages, reading bits and pieces of information. His eyes scanned quickly. "Carlos's entire life is in this file. Everything from birth to present." Tank said. "From what I see here, about twenty-five years ago Jeanne Ellen Burrows started watching the Manoso household. The FBI wanted his father. He was a threat. According to this, she requested numerous times to be told of the circumstances surrounding the surveillance. The FBI would not give her the details. His case closed two years later." Tank looked up at us. "The initials next to it… are J.E.B."

An uncomfortable silence swept through the room.

"Didn't Ranger's father disappear?" Tank asked.

"That's what he told me." I said. "According to Ranger, he disappeared from the cabin in New Mexico. He had been hurt in a training exercise. He had a bullet in his brain, and it altered his perceptions. He was afraid he would hurt someone. He stayed at the cabin so his family would be safe from him. One day, they got a call that his father was missing. It was assumed that he wandered off and got lost."

"That's what he told me, also." Ramon said. "Told me there was a search but he was never found."

Tank looked concerned. "This does not prove that his father wasn't disabled during friendly fire, or that he didn't wander away, but it does put questions out there. What if he felt he was endangering his family because of what he was involved with? Possibly staying at the cabin to keep them out of harms way and using the bullet in his brain as logical reasoning?" He held up the file. "If the FBI knew we had this, we may all disappear. Let's not share this one with the police." Tank flipped through more of the paperwork. "I don't see any mention of a file for his father, just the requests from Jeanne asking for more information. Maybe they just wanted her to keep an eye on him."

Then why are her initials next to the notation, "Closed"? Hal asked.

"Maybe she just closed the file because he disappeared." Cal said, hopefully.

Tank read through the next few pages. "There is no mention of a disappearance, or of any search for his father. There is all kinds of information leading up to it, why not that? It would seem that it would be a very important part of her investigation."

I got a little shiver. Maybe these files are more important than we first imagined. I looked over at the monitors. I was half expecting to see men in black standing there, staring at us through the monitors surveillance cameras.

Tank continued to read through the file. "Surveillance has now moved from Richard Manoso, to his son Ricardo Carlos Manoso. It is set up a few years later, at age ten. He was already becoming a problem for the police. Jeanne is asked to watch him, keep loose tabs because of who his father had been. It clearly states in here that she should use whatever means necessary to keep him on a leash. By age thirteen, she had done just that. She has written in that she became involved with him and supplied him with what he wanted. Money, sex, and drugs. In exchange, she used him for some of the covert operations she was involved with. He had become an excellent thief. She was training him, but he was getting harder to control. She used him to gather data about the neighborhood, and steal information she needed from others she was watching. She told Carlos she was a private investigator."

"Why would the FBI be so worried about Carlos? Even if his father was a problem, what did that have to do with him? He was just a kid. Why would they need Jeanne to be on his jock?" I asked.

Hal shrugged. "Maybe he knew what his dad was doing?"

"Possibly, but he was eight. I think Ranger would have mentioned it to one of us if that were true. It also would have been more obvious as to what Jeanne was doing. Ranger is smart, if he knew what his dad was into, he wouldn't have fallen for the private investigator line she threw at him." Tank said.

"Maybe he saw something. Maybe he saw things he wasn't supposed to see, and the Feds are worried that Ranger is a witness to a crime they committed." Lester said.

"Again, it's possible, but Ranger loves this country and he still believes in the laws and the government for the most part. If he had seen something like that, I think it would have altered how he does things. He definitely would never have joined the military if he felt they were the bad guys." Tank said.

"Maybe Ranger was injected with experimental DNA, and they need to watch him to make sure he didn't flip out and turn into the Hulk or something." Ramon said with a serious look, as if he was hoping it was true.

I rolled my eyes, but secretly, I wouldn't have doubted it.

"Maybe his father had hidden documents, and no one knew where they were. Maybe they were afraid that one day Ranger would find them" I said.

"There is nothing in this file stating anything about why they were so interested in him, including experimental DNA, Ramon." Tank said. "At seventeen, she encouraged Carlos to join the military. She wanted off the detail. Apparently, she was beginning to get a conscience."

We all stood as Tank went through Ranger's file. We were still pumped from our trip to Sebring's. None of us felt comfortable enough to sit down and relax when he was reading information that meant so much to us all. We listened carefully to what was said. He was reading fast through the notes, trying to get a handle on what was happening. He flipped a few more pages, hoping for answers.

"The paperwork jumps dates quickly. There are minor notes about his education, and a very detailed report of his service record. It looks to me like he was off their radar. I know that when you are in the Army, you are monitored constantly, no need for outside babysitters. Five years later, the notes are becoming detailed again." Tank said. "He is now out of active duty. She has a common relationship with him. Her notes are more sporadic and less thorough. He was almost family."

Tank continued to read the file about Ranger. Cal and Ramon sat down. We started to relax as the hour ticked away. I was beginning to feel secure again. Rangeman, for all intent and purpose, was an extremely safe place to be. The building's security systems were on high alert after what we had witnessed at Seabring's building. Alarms were set with new codes. No one would come in unannounced. We listened silently, relaxing. Finally we were all seated as Tank read.

"Ranger was out of the service, and back in Trenton." Tank said. "He has a lot more knowledge and skill. He becomes Jeanne's competition for bounty hunting and he is making trips overseas for mercenary work. It jumps again to where our team comes in, and he establishes RangeMan. The FBI has him on full surveillance for his business practices, keeping Jeanne on him full-time. This breaks off two years later, when she confirms that he is following the laws and is not a threat or problem. She tries numerous times to get him off the FBI watch list."

Tank picked up a written document and read through it quickly while we waited for more. "There is a note here from the bureau. It states that Jeanne Ellen is no longer working the case. It says she has become emotionally involved. She can no longer be effective. They request all the documents for the case be surrendered."

I raised my eyebrows. "Since we have this file, does it mean she had copies to give them? Or, does it mean she never complied?"

"I think this was years ago. I have a feeling she complied, or your source would have told you a lot less than he did the day you met him." Tank said. "There are several letters she has written to someone at the bureau asking to be put back on Ranger's case. Eight times she tried. Each time she was denied. It looks like she kept up with him anyway, regardless of what the FBI wanted. She stayed in the game."

Tank picked up a stack of folders in the main document. He read off our names as he handed each of us a file. The one he handed me, had my name written on it, like the names on the other files; block lettering, FBI insignia; the whole enchilada. We all had a file in Ranger's life. No one spoke as we opened them.

I looked at it carefully, feeling the embossed shield that was on the front. The file was dark brown, and the shield was of the same color. To me, it was ominous. I wasn't comfortable with the FBI having information about me. It made me feel like I had done something wrong, before I had even cracked opened my folder. The block letters to me, signified importance in some way. Having this in my possession had me on edge.

I glanced over at the folders that were left in the stack. I was curious as to whom Jeanne had decided was important in Ranger's life. I picked them all up, looking at the names. I fanned through them quickly. Most of the women's names I knew. Trisha, Angelica Rodriguez, Suki Takahashi.

Wait. Suki Takahashi? I glared at her name. Her file was like the rest, but it was a name I had never heard, and the only woman's name in the lot whom I was unfamiliar. Who the hell was Suki Takahashi? As curious as I was at this moment, it wasn't ok that I pawed through Ranger's personal life. Whoever the hell Suki was, I bet she made up the fabulous four. I touched the file again and then turned around, leaning on the table to open my file so I wouldn't be tempted to open hers. I already felt like we were violating his personal life as it was.

I did want to read my file. For the next hour, all of us were engrossed with our own personal history, or what Jeanne had believed made us tick. I was taken aback by not only the personal nature of what she had, but the coldness of how she had written it. The write up on me was not exactly flattering. She had my school records all the way through college, my family tree, job history, (yikes), relationship history, (jeez), and credit history, (holy cow). I lived a sad life according to Jeanne Ellen Burrows.

She definitely was thorough. I didn't appreciate her digging into my life, and I hoped the FBI did not have copies. I realized how vulnerable we all were. I was curious how she had retrieved some of this information. The report listed sexual preferences, how many partners I had, and basically what styles I liked best. How she acquired this type of information made me feel extremely uncomfortable.

I glanced up from my file to see I was not the only one who felt a lesser amount of warm fuzzy security after reading this information.

"Jesus Christ, that is just not cool, man." Lester exclaimed. "How the hell did she even know some of this stuff?" He dropped the folder on the table. "That, is going in the incinerator."

"If I knew this kind of information was being written up about me…." Ramon shook his head. "I don't know man, that's some fucked up shit right there."

"It's obvious from everyone's reactions, that if someone had found out she was doing this type of investigation, they would have motive to kill her. I can't say that I would be any less of a suspect if I would have known." Tank said.

"Count me in." Cal said.

Hal shook his head in agreement. "That' shit ain't right. All that is no one's business."

"Ok," I said. "Not including us, who else would feel like Jeanne needed to die after finding out what she had on them?"

"The list just got longer." Tank said. "This might take a while to figure out. We can't rule anyone out."

I put my head in my hands. Besides finding out that Jeanne was a lot worse than we suspected, we had not moved any farther forward. I seriously hoped that the FBI did not have these files in their possession.

I picked up Les Seabring's folder. He was the number one suspect in my book. There was the same detailed information that we all had in our files, along with a long impressive history of community service and being a team player in politics. He was an all American great guy according to Jeanne Ellen; he even ate a balanced diet. She completely white washed him. I was thrown. According the her, he was nothing but an honest law-abiding citizen.

It's not that I was questioning his role as a human being, but it just seemed like it was an unrealistic point of view. Maybe she truly did love this man. Although her head was definitely in the sand. According to her, he did nothing wrong. This gave us zip, zilch and basically zero to go on. To me, it made him even more of a suspect. When I questioned him, he was almost cold in his reactions about her as a person. There was no love in his voice, no anger that she had been killed. He had fooled us both. He was definitely a very good actor, or he never loved her to begin with. Either way, to me, it made him much more of a threat.

I was covered in sweat. I woke up late and went on my morning run. The sun was hot and humid in the sky by the time I got back to the building. Ramon had gone with me, and so did Cal. None of us were up for conversation. We found ourselves deep within our thoughts of what those folders had told us about ourselves. Did others perceive me the way that Jeanne had? If so, I needed to work on myself. Maybe Cal and Ramon felt the same way. They gave me a high-five as they got out of the elevator on three. I continued up to five to start the day.

Ella must have been in the apartment while I was out. Everything was clean and smelled great. She had left my requested yogurt and granola in the fridge. It's not that I particularly liked granola, but it made the yogurt tolerable. I still wanted Fruit Loops for breakfast, and I thought I could substitute it with granola and yogurt. It is my attempt to eat healthier. I poured some granola in the yogurt and tried it, then decided Fruit Loops in the yogurt might be better, but only if the yogurt had fruit on the bottom. I ate two yogurts. The second one with the Fruit Loops won out over the granola. Maybe next time, I will just have the Fruit Loops instead of the yogurt. Why mess with perfection?

My cell phone rang as I emerged from the shower. I looked at the display. Grandma Mazur.

"Hello?" I said, as I pulled the towel from my head and started drying off.

"Stephanie, is that you?" Grandma said, in a whisper.

"Yeah, it's me, Grandma."

"I need you to come over, I got a problem."

"A problem? What kind of problem?"

"I think Bella killed Bernie."

I stopped drying my hair and paid more attention.

"What? Is he dead?" I knew that was a stupid question before it completely fell from my mouth, but it came out anyway. I rolled my eyes, thinking I was the idiot Jeanne Ellen believed me to be. "Where are you?" I said, trying again.

She whispered back. "At my apartment."

"Where's Bernie?"

"In the bedroom."

"Are you sure he's dead?"

"I think so, the paramedics are here and they think the same thing. They just brought in a body bag. I thought he just fell asleep. I thought he was just really tired. We were fooling around and he went to sleep right in the middle."

Yikes, I didn't want that image.

"When was this?"

"Sunday, after we came home from dinner. I thought he was just sleeping, but then he started to smell. So I called 911." She whispered again into the phone, I could barely hear her. "I think Bella killed him."

"At your apartment?"

"No, the night we took her home, Sunday. Bernie and Bella had an argument. He wanted to come home with me, and she wanted him to come back to her daughters with her. Stephanie, she gave him the eye. Wished him dead!"

I heard muffled voices in the background. "Grandma, what is going on?"

"They want me to give them a statement. Here, talk to Joe."

"What? No!..."

I heard the phone clank down for a moment. I heard the sounds of police radio, then Joe was on the line with me.

"Yeah….?" He said. He covered the mouthpiece and told someone to take Grandma Mazur in the next room to take her statement.

There was a sigh through the phone. "Hello?"

"Your homicide. Why are you at my Grandma's?"

"Your Granny told the 911 operator someone killed Bernie Horowitz. I got the call. I guess it's my lucky day."

"Did she tell you who she thought killed him?"

"I haven't gotten that far yet."

"She thinks Grandma Bella did it." I got silence on the phone that only Joe knows how to pull off.

"What?" Joe said, flummoxed.

"Yep. Grandma said Grandma Bella gave Bernie the eye Sunday night and wished him dead."

"What?"

"You heard me. Don't keep saying,"What."

"Your grandma called in a homicide because of a spell my grandmother put on Bernie?"

"Yeah. Guess you need to go question your grandma."

The phone disconnected. I wasn't sure, but I don't think it was a mistake.

I called my mother, and told her that she needed to meet me over at Grandma's.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 

 

I dropped the form that the coroner had given me on Connie's desk, stating Bernie Horowitz was no longer breathing, but he was with the proper authorities.

"What's this?" Connie said.

"Bernie Horowitz death certificate."

"I heard about that. Is it true? Joe's Grandma gave Bernie the eye?" She looked at me hopefully, raising her eyebrows.

I shrugged. "Beats me. My grandma sure thinks she did. She even called the police. 911. Joe got the call."

Connie smiled. "I bet that went over well. Gotta love your grams. She keeps the boys in blue on their toes. One thing for sure, Vinnie will be surprised. We already took money out of the budget to cover that one. You should get a bonus."

"Bonus my ass!" Vinnie yelled from the back office. He poked his head out, so he could see us. "Stephanie, you get a handle on Donatello yet?" Before I could flip him the bird, he walked back in the office, muttering something about how he shouldn't have come back to Trenton.

I looked at Connie and folded my arms. "What is the deal with Donatello anyways? I haven't even started looking for him. I don't even know if I want to look for him. It's already causing problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"I think my mom dated him once."

"Ha!" Vinnie's voice spewed out again from the office. I looked towards it, challenging him to poke his little greasy balding head out again. We waited, but he didn't say any more. I shrugged and looked at Connie.

"You think he knows something? Or is he just making noises because he found his lost beastiality DVD?" I asked.

"I'm betting on the DVD." Connie said. Her voice went up a notch "Because if he knew something that would help you out, I'm sure he would tell you!"

We both looked back towards the office. Nothing.

"Well, there's your answer. Its the lost DVD." She lowered her voice. "Hey, I got a message for you this morning. I was going to call you, but you walked in before I had the chance."

My heart skipped a beat. "What's the message?"

Connie stood up. "Let's go for a walk. People have big ears around here."

We didn't bring our pocketbooks. Just in case someone had bugs in our shoulder bags, we left everything at the desk and took a walk. I didn't care about whatever was going on with Donnie. So, my family had secrets. Who doesn't? Feeling terrible about Bernie wouldn't bring him back to life. I doubted that Grandma Bella would be arrested for a spell she cast. Plus, he probably died happy. He lived, he loved, and he died while in a compromising situation with a woman. He would be famous. His death would be questioned for years to come. Had Bella's spell worked? Or hadn't it? It would be one of those things that would sweep through the retirement community like wildfire. His name would be infamous. I think he would be happy if he knew. His viewing would be the highlight of the year. They would have to set out more chairs. Maybe they would even have to open up the Big Room for it. They may even have to open an extra bag of cookies. What else could a guy want?

I felt confident that what was happening in my life, was more important right now. I should concentrate on Ranger. I wanted him out of the slammer. That was my goal. The tapes were the key. The solution I was looking for, the golden ticket. I had high hopes that Ranger would be cleared of any wrong doing once we listened to the tapes.

We walked down the block, cut across the street and kept walking. "I wanna make sure no one's following us." Connie said, looking back. "You see anyone?"

I looked around. I was sure I would see men in dark suits looking suspicious. Or I would see men in "Construction" uniforms working on a street that didn't need repair. People reading the newspaper with a hole cut out so they could see us. I couldn't spot anyone, but it didn't mean that they weren't there.

"Jeez, your making me nervous!" I told Connie. I looked around again.

"Ok, here's the deal." Connie said, as we were passing by Phil's Fish and Aquarium Supply. Home of Harriet, The Largest Living Goldfish in New Jersey! I had personally never set my eyes on Harriet. Although, the sign has been up since before I was born.

"They are finished with the tapes." She said. "Tony Barella was clean. They can give them to you. But, my uncle said to be careful with them. You shouldn't go around announcing that you have them until you listen to them yourself."

"What is that suppose to mean?" I asked.

"I don't know, but he wasn't joking. I've heard that same tone before. He meant it."

"Did he say where the tapes were going to be?"

"He said he would drop them off."

"Drop them off where?"

"That, he didn't say. He's gonna call and let me know after it's done."

"So that's it?" I said stopping in front of Tasty Pastry. "We walked four blocks so you could tell me that?" I crossed my arms, looking around again. Dammit, I was still paranoid. I had lost my sense of security with the information we read last night. I didn't know if I would ever feel totally safe again.

"No, That's not it." She said. "Leaving the office will drive Vinnie nuts. He knows everything that happens in the office now. I swear there has to be a bug. I just can't find it. It's making me crazy. I hate that bug. I had to get the hell out of the office."

We walked into the bakery and bought a dozen doughnuts. "Maybe it's in the chair." I said.

"I looked in the chair. I tore the lining off the bottom and the sides too. I had to superglue it back together again. I even flipped the chair over and took the wheels apart. He is a bastard. I can't find it anywhere."

"I can ask Ramon come over and look for it. If there is a bug, he will find it."

"Do it." She said. "I am tired of his crap. I have no privacy. I've been afraid to use the bathroom! I have to go next door now and use Mary's."

It was already deep into the afternoon when I got back to RangeMan. It would be Fall soon. The leaves were starting to change. I knew the warmer weather would be gone soon enough. Already, I was starting to wear a sweatshirt when I went out to run in the mornings. I watched Judge Judy as I power walked my fifth mile on the treadmill in RangeMan's gym. My cellphone chirped at me. I was in the zone, thinking about how Judge Judy is sometimes nicer to the people who are jerks, than the people who get taken for a ride.

"The eagle has landed." Someone whispered through the phone. I think it was a woman's voice, but I wasn't totally positive.

"What?" I said, stopping the machine. I hadn't looked at the caller I.D. Who the hell was this?

"The eagle has landed." She said again, more forcefully this time. I thought the voice sounded familiar. Maybe it was Connie.

"What eagle?" I was totally confused. I wasn't even sure it was Connie. I glanced at the caller I.D. It was Connie's number.

"Connie? Is that you? What are you talking about?"

"Jeez, Stephanie! I can't talk on the phone. Meet me at the office in an hour." She hung up.

As I tried to catch my breath from the walk, I realized what she meant. Connie must have gotten confirmation about the tapes. You would have thought we would have a code worked out already if she was going to use it.

The phone chirped again. It was Tank. "Something just happened." He said. "Ramon was watching Seabring. He was in his office all afternoon. Five minutes ago, Seabring runs out of the building and takes off. Ramon tried to follow, but he lost him. It was like he was after something."

I looked at my phone, now knowing it was probably compromised. What were the odds that Seabring had a tap on it? "Shit, I'm coming down." I said. I hung up and ran downstairs. I found Tank. He was holding his hand up to his earpiece. I could tell by the conversation, he was talking to Ramon. He saw me and told Ramon to call him back if he found him.

"Ramon wasn't expecting Seabring to take off." Tank said. "He was hanging back, having lunch when he made his move. By the time Ramon had scrambled back up to the truck, Seabring was gone."

"I need another cell phone or another line. I think someone has this one tapped."

He walked into the backroom and came out with new phone. He called a number and set it up, giving me a card that had my new number and access code for mail.

"Use this one for now." He took my cell phone and shut it off, taking the battery out and put it in a black box.

I told Tank about the call from Connie, and how it lined up with Seabring's run.

"It could be a coincidence." I said. "Or, he was monitoring my phone. If he was, he will be going to the bonds office. Connie is supposed to meet me there in an hour."

Tank looked at me calmly. "Stephanie, you are under the assumption that Les is the bad guy. He could have gone anywhere. Maybe he was late for an appointment. We have no idea. We do have a tracker on his car. I will call it in."

Tank picked up the phone. Within five minutes, he had confirmation that Seabring's car was parked at his ex-wives house. That was across town, going the opposite way. I wanted him to be guilty so badly; I was putting him ahead of the investigation. I wanted to solve this and be done with it. Ranger's hearing was tomorrow. He would be officially charged with Jeanne's murder. That news could do a lot of damage to his business, and to his psyche. It would be very helpful If we just had something to give to Michael Rosewall.

"I'm supposed to meet Connie at the office. What should I do?"

"Cal and I will go with you. I am also suspicious of Les. His car could be a decoy. We will be going in hot. Go upstairs and change into the gear you wore the other night, and don't forget your gun and your vest."

I felt a little over dressed when I came back down stairs. I had on my black cargo pants, my Cat boots, a black tank top with my flak vest over it. For effect, I put my hair up in a pony tail and put on a black RangeMan ball cap. Tank and Cal looked just as I did. All I needed was a really big gun and I would be ready for the next police academy movie.

"Aren't we a little over dressed for daylight?" I asked.

"No way, You need to be prepared. You think you will be safer in a skirt?" Cal asked me, laughing.

Safe had nothing to do with it. Ridicules had a lot to do with how I felt. At night, I can pull it off. During the day, the outfit needed to be a little less conspicuous.

Tank looked over at me. "Ranger wants us to keep you safe. If you wore street clothes, you would stand out from us. You need to be in uniform. It's my job."

"We are only going to the office. I was there a few hours ago!"

"That was before the tapes were ready and Les took off. If there is a chance that someone else wants these tapes, we have to be ready. That means in uniform with vests. Just go with it, Stephanie. You look good. Don't worry, we got you."

Connie was standing outside when we got to the office. The alarm was going off. They screamed loud behind her. I suddenly felt I was dressed appropriately. On the way over to the office, RangeMan got the alarm code. One of the inside alarms had been triggered. Who ever triggered it, was already inside the building when it happened. It took twenty minutes for us to get there. I was hoping Connie hadn't come early and surprised anyone. Butterflies were in my stomach as I watched the road, willing the truck to move faster towards her. I was relieved when we pulled up and she was standing there, looking pissed off.

"I didn't want to go in and shut the alarm off." Connie said. "This building has a bad history with bombs. I decided to wait for you."

Tank used his phone and called in to cancel the alarm. It went off suddenly bringing the noise level from eleven back down to a three.

"You okay?" I said, checking her out to make sure she wasn't hurt.

"Yeah, sure. I didn't go in. I got here about five minutes before you did. You need to get better with codes."

"You confused me! I didn't know you were giving me a code!" I argued back defensively, trying to hold onto my pride. "The eagle has landed?" What kind of code is that? I wasn't even aware I was supposed to be on the lookout for codes! What the hell do eagles have to do with anything? I was watching Judge Judy, Give me a little break!"

Connie and I watched as Tank and Cal went into the office with guns drawn. It was unlikely that anyone was still there. Whomever set off the alarm, would be long gone. You always need to be careful. We waited outside, just in case. I had my hand on my gun. I sure as hell did not want to have anyone run out at us while they were inside.

"I knew this would happen." Connie said. "My uncle called me early. He said he was already having bad luck with those tapes. He said they were hot. He thought someone knew he had them, and he wanted them out of his lap as soon as possible. He said his boys were dropping them off, then they would meet me back here at the office. He wanted his guys to stay with me until you had the tapes. He was worried about them. I got the call over an hour ago. Right before I called you." She looked around some more. "Maybe the alarm scared them off. I don't see them anywhere."

"I think my phone is tapped." I said.

"You see, that is what I was doing with the code!" She said, frustrated. "The code was suppose to make it hard for the person to know what we were talking about!"

"Yeah?" I said. "Except you forgot one thing."

"Whats that?"

"You never told me about any codes! If the person you are giving the code to doesn't know what it means, how are they suppose to know what to do?"

Connie looked at me for a minute. "I hadn't thought of that. We always use codes. I forgot you're not part of the family." She smiled. "Sorry. Uncle Phil is paranoid. His boys are probably the ones who set off the alarm when they left."

Tank walked up. "No, I don't think so. Your uncle's friends are out back with bullets in their heads."

"Your shittin' me." Connie said. We both walked quickly towards the back of the building.

Two men were heaped on top of one another. They had on nice light brown suits. I didn't get close enough to see any bullet holes, but I believed Tank. My stomach was doing summersaults. I backed away, and held on tight to my gun. My eyes darted back and forth, seeking empty darkened places, watching for movement, as if someone would leap out and kill us all. I thought we should get inside the building.

I looked at Tank and Cal. "Someone knew the tapes would be here." I said.

This was bigger than just Ranger killing Jeanne, something more had happened. What ever that was, the tapes may be the key to all of it. They might be the only evidence there was that cleared Ranger and gave the police another suspect. The killer knew the tapes would be here and Les took off right after I talked to Connie. I felt terrible that these two men had lost their life because of what Connie's uncle had told them to do. I was instantly grateful for not only my vest and choice of clothing, but for the men who were protecting Connie and I. One thing for sure, I wasn't calling this one in. I would let Cal do it.

Connie went over to the two men, and looked at them closely. "I know both of these guys. They came over to watch football on Sundays. That's Arnie and the other guy, that's Marko. Oh crap." Connie said. She walked away from us, and called her uncle.

"The inside of the office is trashed." Tank said. "The file cabinets are knocked over. The desk is on its side, the pictures are even off the walls and the couches have been torn apart. Who ever went in to the office, tripped the alarm while they were doing the search. It wasn't Connie's boys. It was whoever was after those tapes. They knew about the alarms on the doors, but they didn't know about the alarms we set up on the inside. Vinnie had a new system put in a few months ago, after he came back from Scottsdale. He didn't want anyone surprising him. He even set up his own security codes. They were not in Vinnie's original file, it was on a separate account." Tank said.

"Maybe they didn't have the new codes." I said. "Do you think they found the tapes?"

"Hard to tell. My guess is, yes. I am hoping that Uncle Phil hid them somewhere else."

We both looked over at Connie. I walked quickly over to her. Tank followed. If the tapes were not yet recovered, then Connie and her uncle could be targets. Tank, Cal and I surrounded her as we walked her into the office to keep her safe.

"What?" She was confused as we grouped around her, shielding her until we moved back inside and away from the windows.

"Connie, where did the boys hide the tapes?" I said. "Were they here? Or did they hide them someplace else?"

She looked around at the office. It was destroyed, again. "Oh jeez, Vinnie is going to freak!"

"Where are the tapes suppose to be?" I said, panicking.

"Uncle Phil said he put them in a grate inside your apartment."

"My apartment?" I said. I was really panicking now. This was bad.

"Yeah, your apartment." She said.

"Connie, I don't have an apartment anymore. I gave it up."

She looked at me for a moment. I could see she was more than a little lost with what had just happened, but I needed her to focus. "Oh, shit." She said. "Well, that's where they are."

"Did he tell you what grate?" I said.

"The one in the ceiling, by the stove in the kitchen."

"Call your uncle back, use your codes and let him know what happened. Tell him to watch out, the killer could be coming after him. He could be in danger."

I looked at Tank. "How the hell are we going to get the tapes?"

Tank called Ramon. He told him to meet us over at the bonds office, and to bring the van.

"I need a secure line." I said.

Connie pointed to her phone on the desk. "That one is secure. At least it was this morning."

I checked outside. There was a payphone on the corner. I fished fifty cents out of my pocket, and went outside to call Dillon. Dillon is the super at my old apartment. He is a friend from high school, and there is a lot of things he knows about me that most people don't. Like, why my apartment was so difficult to rent out. I told him we needed to get into the apartment. It was the truth. I figured honesty was the best policy. He had never let me down before. I did not tell him exactly why we needed to get in, just that we did and we needed to do it immediately. I didn't want anything bad to happen to anyone at the apartment building. It would be where the killer would head, once he found out where the tapes were hidden. Best if we took the building out of the equation.

He told me that Mrs. Fuentes was on vacation. He could help me out and get me in, but he wasn't going to risk getting in trouble, so he would use the story about a dead rat, to get inside. I told him that I owed him a case of beer for this one. Dillon told me to throw in a Pino's pizza and we had a deal.

Ramon showed up with a plain white van. Inside, there was enough blue cover-all workers uniforms and matching baseball caps for all of us. I made Connie come with us. I needed her there, in case the tapes were not where they were supposed to be. I wasn't all that sure the killer wouldn't seek her out to find out where the tapes were. She was at risk as much as her uncle would be. There was an extra flack vest in the van. I helped her put it on under the cover-alls.

"Is this necessary?" She said, as I strapped the last band around her.

"Yes." I said, looking in her eyes. "Very necessary." We all got into our uniforms. Ramon drove around the building three times. All of us watched through the vans windows looking for anything or anyone that looked out-of-place.

"Looks ok." Ramon said. "I'm parking in the back." He drove into the parking lot and parked next to old Mr. Sanderson's Miata.

My heart was beating fast in my chest. I made sure my gun was loaded and ready. I adjusted the ball cap and put my blue-tooth earpiece in my ear. We all tested the devices making sure we could hear each other. Cal would stay in the van; we needed Ramon with us for any locks we had to break.

We walked quickly into the apartment building. I found Dillon in the basement office. I handed him the beer and his pizza.

"Nice!" He said. "Okay, let's go. I called Mrs. Fuentes and let her know we needed to check the apartment. She was uncomfortable with it, but I convinced her the smell was bad, and we had no choice."

Dillon used his keys and opened the door to my old abode. I looked in, scanning the rooms. Not a lot had changed. Memories flooded back, but I took a deep breath and made myself believe that I had made the right choice to let the apartment go. Tank went quickly room to room, checking to make sure we were alone. Then he went into the kitchen and Ramon closed the front door.

There was a grate in the ceiling in front of the oven. I did see some flecks of paint that had come off when someone had removed it. Ramon got a chair and stood on it with a small drill and took the screws out one by one, handing the plate to Tank. He shined his flashlight up into the hole. We waited patiently.

"I don't see anything." Ramon said, as he scanned the inside of the vent. He looked some more. "Wait. I see something." He extended his arm and put it completely inside the hole, almost up to his armpit. I heard some tearing. He pulled out a small canvas bag and handed it down to me. I opened it. Inside were lots of small micro cassette tapes. The ones you use for dictation. There was a bunch of them. Uncle Phil had said there were about fifty.

Ramon finished putting the grate back together. Tank held onto the canvas bag, as we all walked out. Dillon locked up the apartment again, letting me take one last look at the ugly bathroom I had come to adore.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

We stood in the hallway. Dillon finished locking up. I knew we were going to have to be very careful leaving the building. At each end of the hallway, there was a large window that overlooked a walkway below. The window closest to us led to a room that held two washing machines and two dryers. I knew from experience that it was better to just wash my clothes at my mother's house than fight for the machines the building had given us. Mrs. Patterson and Mr. Helm were the laundry room bullies. They were always there, washing clothes. I think their mission in life was to wash. They stood outside the doorway to smoke cheap cigarettes and tell anyone who walked up with a bushel of clothes that the machines were all in use. I have been turned away by those two so many times I lost count. If it's not them, it's Mrs. Garcia. She must wash her entire family's clothes in those machines. When I say her entire family, I mean generations of people who live all over the city. I asked Dillon about it once. He said he watched her lug two baskets of clothes from her apartment everyday at eleven in the morning on the dot. She never missed a day, including Sunday.

The window at the other end of the hall, gave the view of breeze-way between this building and the next. Cal stood at one window, Ramon at the other. We were on the third floor, giving them a bird's-eye view of the sidewalk below.

"All clear." Ramon said, walking quickly back over to us.

Cal made a final check on the walkway and building below. "Clear." He said as walked back and stood with Ramon behind Dillon and Connie. Their guns were drawn; no one was taking any chances. It was starting to get dark outside. The goal was to be safe at RangeMan as soon as possible. Now that we had the tapes, we were the targets. I was nervous.

When I glanced over at Connie, I knew she felt the same vibe as I did. She looked over to me and whispered, "Do you think the guy who is after the tapes will be here?" She held her gun tight against her body. Her finger was dangerously close to the trigger.

I had a feeling that the person or persons who shot those guys at Vinnie's probably followed us. But I didn't want to make her any more nervous than she already was. I was afraid her gun would go off if I stopped to fast in front of her. I began to worry more about Connie's itchy trigger finger than about the bad guys. When in doubt, bluff.

"Nah, these guys are just cautious." I said. I was trying to act calm, which was hard to do when my voice kept shaking. "Nothing to worry about."

Tank turned his attention toward her. "Do you have a safe place to stay tonight?" I was standing kitty corner behind Connie. I glared at Tank, giving him the "don't freak her out!" look. I saw me and tried to fix his approach. "I mean, just in case, as a precaution." Connie wasn't an idiot. She clutched her gun even tighter.

"Do you think they will come after me?" Her voice rose up a little. I knew Connie was tough, but sometimes you have to work up to it. "I was going to go home, but maybe I should go to my uncle's." Connie said quietly."Maybe it would be safer. He is going to want to talk to me in person anyways. He is pretty pissed that this someone killed two of his best guys.

Tank glanced over at Cal. "Take the SUV. Make sure she gets inside the house before you leave. Meet us back at RangeMan. I want to get these tapes off the street as soon as possible."

Cal nodded and stood closer to Connie. Now she was his responsibility. I think he took all his assignments seriously. No one argued with the team leader. It never happened. If Tank would have told Cal to shoot himself in the foot, I think he would have done it without even flinching. That is loyalty. I didn't know if I could ever be that loyal, I value my feet.

Tank opened the stairwell door. He motioned for us to start moving with a sweep of his hand. Quickly, we ran down the concrete steps. Tank held his gun out in front of him. The lobby door was in front of us. We stopped and waited while Dillon went past us to the basement apartment. He looked at me before heading inside to enjoy his pizza and beer. "Girl, you so owe me for this. Don't shoot anyone on the property, dig?" He smiled. See you soon." He turned and went into the apartment, locking the door behind him. Tank opened the lobby door slowly, looking around. I took a deep breath, hoping we could get out of here without shooting anyone. Not only was there a threat of immediate death, but my mother was sure to find out about it. I wanted to keep this as quiet as possible.

All of us entered the lobby with our guns drawn. It was clear, and I was grateful I could put my gun away. I didn't see any one lurking in any corners. As far as lobbies are concerned, this one was pretty generic. I think most apartments that were built in the 1960's had the same basic look. It had an elevator, two entrances and a set of mail boxes. The carpeting was early eighties mauve and green. Well worn, but still in okay condition. Dillon had put a small bench next to the mailboxes. Many of the people in the building were elderly. He knew they may need a place to rest while they opened their mail or waited for a taxi to come and pick them up. I thought it was very sweet. Dillon was a good guy.

The entrance through the front of the lobby was a single door. It was heavy glass and difficult to open when it was cold outside. The back entrance exited to the parking lot. It had two large plate-glass windows and double doors. The double doors were there for anyone dumb enough to bring extra-large pieces of furniture into the building. Dumb because the doors to the apartments were unusually small. Most big pieces of furniture sat in the lobby until someone could take them apart to get them through the door. If that didn't work, a free sign was attached and the furniture would go to the first person to come along with a truck and a couple of strong backs to move it. Once, there was a pool table in the lobby. It sat here for two weeks before someone claimed it. It was unfortunate too, because I think Dillon was about to fold and let us start using it.

All the windows and doors at both entrances had metal bars attached for security. To make them look less threatening, they were painted white. Dillon painted them every couple of years. He would have to do it again soon, too. Rust was starting to show through.

The front and back entrances had security door locks, the old kind that required a key to get in. If you lost your key, it would cost fifty bucks to have it replaced and it took two weeks to get it. I had lost my key five times. That's two hundred and fifty bucks I handed over to get into my apartment building. Dillon said I lost my keys so many times, he would have to start buying the keys in bulk.

Tank stood in front of the glass window, surveying the parking lot. It was dusk. It was hard to see anything at this time of the night. The lot had four bright lights that had been installed for the safety of the residents. It was a measure that I had voted on at the annual building maintenance meeting. Although it was a good idea, I realized now, that there were more shadows at this time of night because of the lights. What usually is a pretty safe place to park seemed overly dangerous as the sun set and the day turned into night. The lights played tricks on your eyes. It was hard to see anyone who was hiding in the shadows.

Tank glanced over at Ramon. He nodded. They must have communicated with E.S.P because they didn't say a word to each other. They probably went over a plan before I came downstairs this afternoon. This type of teamwork is why they were still breathing. You have to work as if you are one. You had to think alike and with quick fluid actions. You need to know what they are going to do before it happens. They need to be part of you. I didn't think Lula and I would ever share that kind of team thing. Lula did her own thing, and I flew by the seat of my pants. I never had a plan.

Cal stepped outside with Ramon. He pulled out his gun from the holster and held it up to his body. Ramon did the same. I saw them disappear into the darkness. I crossed my fingers, hoping no one was out there waiting for them.

Behind us, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. We all turned towards it. I moved in front Tank, my gun drawn, as if I could protect the evidence he held. An old woman with a silver walker started to emerge out of the elevator at a snail's pace. Her walker had bright yellow tennis balls attached to the bottoms of the legs. She picked up the walker and moved it forward. She moved her right leg forward, her left leg dragged behind it. The walker pushed forward an inch, then her right leg, then her left leg. I was mesmerized. The doors began to close. It was Mrs. Gerardo. I knew her, and I knew her husband. He was standing beside her; his hand caught the elevator doors so they would not close. She moved the walker slightly forward, then the right leg again. She had on house slippers, light blue slacks and a light blue and white-flowered blouse. He had on light blue slacks, and matching blazer. They were always color coördinated; I remembered that the Gerardo's came down to the lobby every day to collect the mail. They would get their mail in the late afternoon, and then make the journey back up to the fourth floor. I wondered if this routine took them all day. I think it might. I breathed a sigh of relief and put my gun back in its holster.

"Why are you standing in front of me, Stephanie?" Tank growled from behind me.

I turned my head. "I'm protecting you. You have the tapes."

"And you think you could help by getting in the way?"

"I'm not in the way… You have the evidence. I need to keep you safe."

Tank looked at me as if he was astounded that I thought he might need protecting.

"If you get shot because of me, I'm dead anyway. Ranger would probably kill me. Just stay behind me. I'll take my chances with people in the elevator."

I would have argued with him, but both of us turned our attention to the problem at hand. Ramon and Cal. They had walked out of the building. I couldn't see them anymore. "Where are they?" I said, searching for them.

Tank put his hand up to his ear. "They are already in the vehicles. They are making a sweep, checking for bombs." Tank had his earpiece in his ear so he could talk to both Ramon and Cal.

It was taking forever. But, I suppose if the trucks blew up, we would be pretty much up shit creek. I turned back to the Gerardo's. They weren't out of the elevator yet. They were concentrating on moving the walker. Neither of them paid any attention to what was in front of them. I was grateful. It would have been hard to explain. All focus was on getting the walker out of the elevator. I thought their day would progress a lot faster if she was in a wheelchair. Just imagine how much more time they would have for doing other things.

I was afraid that If someone started shooting at us, they would be in the way. I didn't want them to get hurt. Cal and Ramon needed to hurry the hell up. I was happy now with my decision to leave the apartment building. These people deserved peace. So far, I didn't think my life had been all that peaceful.

The lights from the trucks went on. I started to feel less afraid once the trucks pulled up next to the back doors. When they stopped, Tank had us wait while he double checked the van and the SUV to make sure they were safe. I thought he was being a little over the top, but I was thankful anyway. Connie got into the truck with Cal and I got in the van with Tank and Ramon.

Before I could properly sit down, the van took off. I was thrown backwards as I tried to close the van door. I grabbed the seat before i was knocked on my ass. "Jesus, Ramon!" I screamed, trying to sit down before It happened again. Tank leaned back and shut the door. I hastily put the seat belt on, glancing back behind us to see the SUV turn the opposite direction and head out to Connie's uncle's house. I watched to see if anyone followed us. I knew someone was watching, and I knew they probably knew exactly where we were taking the tapes. They didn't need to follow us.

The van barreled through the city. Ramon drove like a crazy person. Note to self. Don't drive with Ramon if there are other options. Tank sat next to him and slid his belt on as we turned the corner and headed for RangeMan. I think Ramon was trying to beat the killers to the building. He knew they would follow us home.

"What I don't get," Cal said. "Is why this guy decided to kill the two men Connie's uncle sent over. That doesn't make sense to me. Why piss of the mob. It was a bad move if you ask me." He said, scratching his head.

We were at the boards on the third floor. RangeMan's security deck. None of us had taken our eyes off the surveillance cameras since we got back.

"Maybe they were waiting for Connie to show up, standing out back having a smoke." Hal said. His eyes were on camera four. A red light had come on. A leaf blew by.

The lights had been turned on the exterior of RangeMan. Any movement outside would trigger the camera and a red light would come on. Then the focus would be on the cameras with the alarm. Tank would ask the men outside to check on the area that had the alert. We watched closely, waiting for someone to walk up. Of course it was premature. It was unlikely that we would have visitors this quickly, but no one was taking any chances. We had been back for less than fifteen minutes and no one had taken off any of the equipment we had brought with us.

Cal came in a few minutes earlier. He had dropped Connie off and made sure she was safe before heading back. Nothing suspicious had happened. I was grateful that he had watched over her.

Cal continued with his theory. "The guy shows up, sees them waiting and knows that he wouldn't be able to get near Connie. He might have thought they were after the tapes. If this guy is paranoid, he could have panicked."

I leaned on the desk, trying to imagine the back of Vinnie's. "Isn't there cameras or something back there? Isn't there a way to find out who did this?"

Tank nodded his head "No, Vinnie doesn't have any surveillance equipment. We asked him if he wanted it, and he politely declined. Ranger thought he might throw one up anyway, to keep you safe, but it never happened. I don't think the mob was keen to the idea of us monitoring. None of the buildings around there have it, either. Unfortunately it is a known traffic area for making shady deals.

"Vincent Plum bail bonds looks good from the front, but he has a reputation. He has never run a totally legit operation." Ramon said, looking at me. "The police will assume it was gang or mafia related. It happens all the time."

"If these guys had a gun pointed at them, they probably told him that the tapes were inside the office." Hal said, jumping in. "They may have given him a location to search. They figure, the guy will just let them go. Tell them to get out of there. But, because they have seen his face, they get shot. One right after the other. They didn't even pull their weapons. Their guns never left the holster's. This was done quickly. He may not have asked questions first. He might have just wasted them. That's cold. He could be a pro."

"So, after he shoots them, he searches them, looking for the tapes." I said, adding to Hal's theory. "He comes up with nothing. The alarms from the outside never went off. He could have had the codes for them. He gets inside to search for the tapes while he waits for Connie to show up with me. Maybe, he thinks Connie has the tapes on her, or they are in the office. He starts to search, not knowing that Vinnie had put in a new alarm on his private office door and on the cage for collateral merchandise."

"Right," Ramon said. "Then the alarms go off. He panics. He doesn't want to get caught inside the office. Hell, he doesn't want to be anywhere near there when the cops show up. He decides to fall back, maybe watch and see what happens from a distance. He can't afford to leave. He needs to know where the tapes are, so he can get them later. He decides to wait and see which one of you leaves with them. Then he can follow."

That scenario freaked me out; I was supposed to meet Connie by myself. If I would have gone, we both might be pushing up daisies now. The thought gave me goose bumps.

"When Connie was out front waiting, why didn't he just grab her? He could have made her tell him where the tapes were." Lester asked.

"It was probably too risky, or he didn't know she was out front until after the alarm had gone off." Tank said.

"He probably thought I would come alone." I said. "He was counting on it."

Cal nodded. "Exactly."

The tapes were still in the pack we retrieved them in. They sat close to Tank. Hector was bringing over equipment to have the tapes copied, but it was taking a while. It was hard to get that kind of equipment after office hours. We all watched the building. The flood lights had all been turned on and a team of armed guards were patrolling. The entire building was lit up like a Christmas tree. Although we were protected by so many people, I still felt on edge.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

I was concentrating on only one thing. The man I was following. It was all that mattered. I focused on him. He walked swiftly ahead of me. Just as I was about to reach out and grab him, he stepped off the sidewalk and into traffic. He moved fast, dodging in-between speeding cars, like he was daring me to follow. I held my breath, watching to see if he made it. Once he got to the other side of the street, he jumped on to the curb and turned a corner. I followed, trying to catch up. I was determined to stay with him.

I darted between passing cars, almost getting clipped by a van. The driver screamed obscenities at me as he passed. Horns honked as people slammed on their brakes, barely avoiding collision. He never stopped to see what was happening behind him, he just kept walking. Fear crept through me. I wondered if I was headed for a trap. I kept my eyes trained on him as he walked down the street, disappearing into a nearby alley. I ran faster. I didn't care if he saw me. He already knew I was following him.

The alley was dark. Hidden from the afternoon sun by the brick buildings that stood on either side. I stopped before it, motionless. I was afraid of going in without some kind of backup. I had no time. It was now or never. I approached cautiously. Uncomfortable with the thought that I would lose him if I didn't just move in now. Although every fiber of my being told me I shouldn't, I went in. It was dark and forbidding. I put my back to the wall and crept slowly into the darkness. My pulse was racing. Fear was trying to get the best of me. I pushed it aside and kept going.

I slid slowly forward, listening to the noises of the street behind me as they echoed off the walls. I was trying to hear the small sounds coming from the alley itself. It was quiet. No rats scurrying away, no bottles rolling, no sounds of paper blown by a breeze. It was as if the alley knew something was here, and it was afraid with me. I started to second guess my approach as I listened for sounds of footsteps or even a paper crunching under someone's foot. Nothing. It was eerie. A car horn went off in the distance behind me; I jumped, relieved that I could still hear the world behind me. I turned my focus away from my fear and kept going.

My gun was at my side. I held it tight. Worried that if I relaxed my grip, it would disappear. This was a blind alley. A place for trash dumpsters and junkies. There was nowhere to go, but plenty of places to hide. The man would be trapped. I smiled, knowing that I finally had him. No way out unless he climbed up one of the fire escapes. I looked up, checking above me. There was enough light above to see no ladders pulled down. No way to climb up. He was here, somewhere in this space. I could feel him. I moved my foot forward, inching in one step at a time.

My heart was pounding. Now it was all I could hear. I tried to block it, concentrate on the noises around me, but it was overpowering, like a pulse that would not stop. I slowly moved into the murkiness. My gun out in front of me as I crept further in.

A large green dumpster sat to the right of the alley. Around it, stacks of cardboard. Empty cartons and discarded pizza boxes. Strangely, they were all Pino's boxes. Pino's Pizza was miles from where I was. Why would they be here, in this alley? Suddenly my focus was gone. I took a deep breath, pushing the questions away. This was no time to ask myself stupid questions.

There were two dumpsters, not just one. They sat side by side. My attention was now on both of them and the space in between the two. This will be where the man is hiding, I am almost sure of it. The second dumpster is so dirty it is hard to see that it was once blue. It is just as large as the first. I inch gradually towards the space between the two. I was losing valuable time being cautious, but unable to move any quicker. I approach the gap, spinning to the side, checking between them. I am careful to keep my gun up and trained on the area in front of me. My finger is on the trigger, ready to pull. Ready to kill, if anyone dares attack. There is no one hiding in the open space between them. I do a quick check of the inside of each dumpster only to find more discarded cardboard, boxes and trash bags. No one lurking, nobody waiting for me. I check every possible hiding place, each time expecting to find him. Instead, finding more boxes ready to be recycled. I use my boot to kick some of the trash, hoping to find him there.

I move in further,past the dumpsters now less cautious. I am beginning to second guess myself. Did he really run into the alley? Did I miss him as he disappeared into a crowd? I play the scene back in my head. He went into this alley, he did not come back out, I was sure of it. How could he have escaped me? I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that he wasn't here.

I feel myself starting to panic. Was I wasting my time? He could be far away by now. The time taken to scour the alley, was it all in vain? I would never find him. This was a ruse. I was had. It was imperative that I didn't lose him. I needed him, although I wasn't sure why this was.

I walked more rapidly, hastily checking for him. I was starting to feel desperate, throwing caution into the wind. He escaped from me somehow. Ahead was the brick wall, the dead end. He wasn't here. I stopped before it. Frustration overcame me. I had lost him. I had made a mistake. I looked at the wall in front of me. Then looked down. That was when I noticed I wasn't wearing any pants. What? What the hell!

Suddenly all I cared about was how I was going to get out of the alley. I had no pants. I thought back to the cars slamming on their brakes, and the people yelling as I ran across the street. I tried to remember where I had left my pants, and why? Had I left the apartment this morning with out them? Why didn't anyone say anything? The dumpers, maybe there would be something in them i could use. I turned to go back to them, lowering my gun. The man was standing behind me. Close. I could feel his breath on my face. He was smiling. I dropped my gun in panic. He opened his mouth and shrieked.

I jumped up from the bed with a scream. My eyes wide open as I tried to remember just where I was. Suddenly relieved, realizing it was just a nightmare. I checked quickly to make sure I had on my underwear. Ranger was in the alley with me. I didn't want to think to hard about that part. He was the one who made that terrible noise. Although I was now awake, the shriek continued.

I covered my ears. It was deafening. My hair was damp from sweat, and the loud squeal pierced my skull, but they were not screams, they were alarms. The building alarms were going off. They surrounded the room. Lights flashed outside of RangeMan. I could see them pulse on the walls in front of me. I went to the window, looking down at the front of the building.

Three fire trucks and two police cars were parked haphazardly at the entrance of RangeMan. I pulled on a pair of cargo pants and laced up my chucks. RangeMan was a secure building. The only reason that alarms would be going off was because of the tapes. This wasn't a coincidence. Someone broke in. Real fear pulsed through me now. I had no idea what was happening on the floors below me. What ever it was, it was bad enough that the fire department and the police were called.

Someone started pounding on the door. Rangers front door. My first thought, the killer was here for me. I quickly pushed it away. If the killer was at the door, he probably wouldn't be knocking. Just in case, I found my gun. We should have listened to the tapes last night instead of waiting to copy them.

The tapes were downstairs. I was hoping they were locked up in a vault where no one could get them. I would be relieved when we could hand them over to the proper authorities. I wasn't sure who the proper authorities were at any given moment, but I thought Joe would be a good start. I didn't exactly want Joe to have this kind of trouble; I just didn't want me to have it anymore.

My attention was back at the front door. The knocking turned to pounding. My phone started buzzing. I checked to see if my gun was loaded. No bullets. Crap. Maybe I could bluff, or maybe the bullets were in my pocketbook. Why was it that in my nightmare, I was so much more prepared? Even without any pants.

I padded silently into the kitchen in search of my bag. I grabbed it. Whoever was at my door was calling my name. "Stephanie. Open the door. I will give you five more minutes, and then I'm shooting the lock out and coming in."

I knew that voice but I walked over and checked the peep-hole to be sure. It was Tank. He stood there looking back at me. He gave me a frustrated wave. "Let me in, Stephanie. There's not much time."

I unlocked the door. Tank pushed it open almost knocking me over as he barreled through.

"Hey!" I screamed. "Manners!"

"We need to leave." He said quickly. "Manners are not in the equation today. RangeMan is not secure."

It was hard to imagine RangeMan not being secure, since the place is built like Fort Knox. A well-known New Jersey wise guy owned this building. He was known for a lot of things. Gun running, racketeering, and a speakeasy that the cops knew about but pretended they couldn't find. Where the gun range is now, was a successful underground club. When Prohibition was in full effect, the club was one of the few places you could get alcohol, gamble, and buy guns if you knew who to talk to. It also was a great place to be ambushed. If the guys wanted you dead, you got dead in a hurry walking into a joint like that. This guy did everything from this building. He ran his whole operation from this big square. There were four total underground levels. They say he died like he lived, fast. Shot in the back by one of his own men.

I asked Ranger about it, and he said the club was dismantled many years before they bought the building. When they got it, it was just an empty room. No sign of what it had been.

The building was bought by an eccentric millionaire after that, and he used the basement floors for safe-rooms. He was a scared little man from what I knew about him. When he was locked up for tax evasion, the city took the building from him and put it up for sale without even really checking it out. It was on the market for a long time. The city was about to give up on selling it. RangeMan bought it before it could be demolished.

Now that RangeMan owned the building, a gun range was on basement level one and a gym on two. Level three was empty, left as it was, a safe room. Level four was the real basement. It opened up to numerous escape routes that were built way back when. They led into the jersey sewer system. Not the greatest means for running alcohol, drugs and guns, but in a pinch, it got the job done. How this place was not safe was beyond comprehension.

"You have bullets in that gun?" Tank said. He seemed to take notice that I armed myself before opening the door to him.

"No. I think there are some in my pocketbook." I started rummaging around, looking for them.

"Find them. You need to be loaded."

"Where are we going?" I said, as I found a few shells floating around in the trash and loose change that filled the bottom of the bag.

Tank watched me curiously as I wiped the cookie crumbs off the bullets and started to load them in my gun. "Not sure, but you better put your boots on. It's a possibility we are going into the tunnels."

I stopped loading my gun. "What?" I said. I stood still for a moment. Processing what he had just said. The tunnels? As in the tunnels that led to the sewer? As in the sewer where alligators were legend to be, and rats were as large as dogs? Those tunnels? When Lester had mentioned this escape route, it was just a note about the history of the building, a little fun fact. Not something I would be going to have to take part in.

I wanted to ask some relevant questions, like why in the hell did we need to use the tunnels? Tank's phone buzzed and he told me to hurry.

I grabbed my black hoodie. Wearing it made me feel brave for some strange reason. Then, I reluctantly took off my chucks and replaced them with my Cat boots. At least they were waterproof, but I doubted they were sewer smell proof. I had a feeling none of these clothes would survive after tonight. They were dumpster bound. I don't think Jersey sewer smell came off regular clothes.

Tank had answered his phone without even saying hello. Instead of the normal salutations, he answered with "Tank", and then he just listened. Eventually spewing out a few small words. This is what I heard.

"Ok. Good. Ok. We will get out another way. Yes. Seventh floor. We are going to Base Four. Out."

I didn't need Tank to tell me what that meant. I already knew. I looked down, trying to regain some composure. We would be leaving through the tunnels. The decision was already made. I didn't have a say in it.

I took a deep breath and waited for him to finish his call. He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket.

"So, we are leaving through the tunnels?" I tried not to sound panicked, but my voice shook a little.

"Yeah." Tank checked his gun, and then he found the ammo for mine that wasn't covered in crumbs and loaded it, handing it back to me. "You ready?"

"No." I said reluctantly. "Isn't there some other way out? I mean, why do we even need to leave? Can't we just stay here? You can shoot anyone who comes through the door. It would be perfectly safe." I was trying hard to make it sound like staying here was an excellent idea, but I knew I sounded scared.

Tank's eyes met mine. "You afraid of the tunnels?"

I hated for anyone to think I was afraid. I stood up a little straighter. I hesitated a little. "No, I am afraid of the alligators."

Tank paused before answering. "Alligators?" He raised his eyebrows and a little smile cracked on his serious face.

Honestly, I did not think alligators were something that was funny. They could be toxic alligators. I stood my ground. Everyone knew about the alligators. "Yeah. you don't know about them?" I said as panic was making it to the surface now. I paced, throwing my best hand gestures out for effect. I remembered the stories well. They scared the crap out of me when I was a little kid. To this day, I still steered clear of the storm drains. "Mary Jo Riymer said, her cousin's friend's brother saw one in there when he worked for the city. Scared the bejesus out of him. He quit the next day. Said he saw an arm in there with it, and the alligator had glowing red eyes!"

The moment it left my lips, I knew the story sounded unbelievable. I had never needed to tell someone about the sewers. It was a well-known fact. All the kids who grew up here knew. You didn't mess with the storm drains, ever. Tank looked at me like I had said something funny. I wish I could tell the story like Mary Jo did. I was scared to death when she told us about it.

"Who is Mary Jo Riymer?"

"She was a friend of my sisters." I said defiantly.

"Don't you think it's possible she was telling you that to scare you?"

"She told my sister, not me. I was secretly listening from the closet. Mary told her not to tell anyone. Valerie was scared, so was Mary."

"Uh huh, how long ago was this?"

I had to think about it. I knew that age would make a difference. Everyone knew there were alligators in the sewer. "I was ten." I crossed my arms boldly. My chin was up. I was a believer.

Tank put his gun in his vest holster. "If there really were alligators in the sewer, don't you think they would have gotten them out by now? I mean, crews go down there all the time."

I knew what he was doing; trying to punch holes in a story I have believed all my life. No one questioned the alligator story. It was a known fact. It was the reason none of us chased any balls that went in the drains. Plus, what if the clown from IT was real? No one wanted to find out, that's for damn sure.

I squinted my eyes at him. "It's true."

"Yeah? Well I can tell you what is really true. Ramon found four packages that may or may not be loaded with dynamite. Do you want to stay here and find out if they go off? Or do you want to take your chances with the dragon alligators and giant rats? You have a gun. Shoot anything that looks like an alligator and your good."

"They found packages inside RangeMan?

"The alarms went off. We smelled smoke on floor one, two and three. Someone is in the building who isn't suppose to be. Lester and Ramon have him somewhere on the fourth floor, in one of the apartments. Whoever it is has some of the security codes and also some of the key cards. At the moment, they can't find the guy. He is probably headed up to the next level. We don't know who it is but my best guess is that they are looking for the vault. The copies of the tapes are in it. I didn't have time to get them.

"Where are the originals?" I said, thinking it would be a damn shame to have gone through all of this just to lose the tapes at the last moment.

Tank patted his leg. "Right here with me. The pack is waterproof, fire proof and bulletproof. If anything happens to me, the tapes will still be ok."

I hated to mention it, but I thought that if anything happened to Tank, the tapes would not only be in the hands of whoever killed him, but there would be a good chance that I would be dead too. If not, Lula would kill me anyway. I needed to keep Tank safe. No way I would make it thorough the alligator sewer without him.

I took a deep breath. Relieved he had the tapes, but it did put targets on our backs.

"Some of the cameras have been disabled. We need to move the tapes and you into a secure location. Whoever it is is leaving packages as they move through the floors of the building. They could be bombs. They could be scare tactics to make us move."

I picked up my bag and walked towards the door. I was convinced. I could handle sewer monsters better than I could handle bombs and mad men.

My cell phone started to ring. It was in the bedroom. I went to get it. I looked at the number calling. "It's Joe."

Tank took the phone from me and answered it.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Tank pulled a small leather book out of his vest pocket. It looked old and worn. The cover was dark brown and the pages inside were yellowed with age. Moments before, we had climbed down a cylindrical shaft that had been built inside the wall in Ranger's closet. It was hidden behind a panel that I had never noticed. Tank said this was only one of four escape routes built inside the walls of RangeMan.

According to the book Tank had, the escape shafts were called "steal-aways". In the blue prints of the building, they were nonexistent. They would be labeled fire escapes if they ever wanted to document them. If I had a say in it, they would change their name to "painful". My legs ached from climbing down the vertical cone.

We stood on a small platform at the bottom of the steel ladder. While I tried to get the feeling to come back into my calves, Tank read from the leather handbook. There was a panel in front of us. On it, in large block letters were the letter and number "B4". I was seriously hoping for the obvious. Please let it mean basement four. I didn't think my legs could tolerate anymore straight down climbing. Hopefully the panel was here to escape the escape. I wondered if anyone used this steal away back in the day. I imagined the likes of Al Capone sneaking down the ladder, snickering at his ingenious route to lose his foes.

Tank slid the panel open with a latch that looked like a ring. Basement four was written in black lettering on the wall in front of us. Thank God for small favors. I heard whispering. Lester and Cal were waiting for us when we climbed out. They let us know that Ramon and Hal were going to stay behind. Ramon thought it was only one guy that had gotten past security. He was searching level six and Hal was with the police, waiting for the bomb squad to come in.

Lester helped Tank move the panel back into place. "Ramon needs to get out of the building. He is still on six. He thinks he can get the guy, but the bomb squad needs to clear the building before they can go in and take a look at the packages. He won't leave till he gets the Ok from you."

Tank pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Ramon. He was the boss, and what he said was obeyed. Ramon would evacuate. I suppose it was a great thing to have a team that did what ever you told them to do, but I didn't think I could ever be that sub-servant. I heard him say to Ramon, "What ever happens, happens. Let the B.S. do their job. We are out. Don't wait for us."

As he closed his phone, an explosion rocked the building above us. Shaking the foundation we stood on. It was like a small earthquake and I half expected the ceiling to come crashing down on us. We all looked up in surprise. Instantly, Tank's phone rang. He listened for a few moments and then closed it. "Someone is trying to blow the door of the vault. The alarm is going off at the safe and the cameras we had on it have been blown." Tank glanced back at me, as if knowing the explosion made me nervous. "The building is on rollers, relax."

"The guy sure isn't wasting any time." Cal said. "I bet Ramon is pissed. He wanted to stake out the vault. He knew that was where the guy was heading. He could have grabbed him."

"He also could have been killed. This man seems desperate. There is no reason for you guys to take that chance. Especially for fake tapes."

"Fakes?" I said. "The tapes in the vault aren't copies?"

"They are partial copies. We were going to finish them in the morning. I had no idea that someone would get in and steal them before we had the chance to finish them." Tank adjusted the pack on his leg. "These are the only set."

"How did this guy manage to get into RangeMan in the first place?" Lester said, as we started walking. "Especially last night. The whole building was on red alert. Who was on duty?" He looked directly at Tank.

"You know the answer to that as well as I do." Tank said. "I think Jeremy is napping on the job." He studied the book, looking at images and instructions, making sure we would be headed in the right direction. I had a feeling Jeremy would be looking for another place to work come morning. I liked Jeremy, but maybe he just wasn't cut out for security work.

The hallway walls were painted white and the floors had industrial gray tile. The lighting was nothing more than plain socket bulbs every fifteen feet, strung on loose wire overhead. It had one purpose, to lead whom ever used it out of the building as quickly as possible.

There was a door at the end of the hall. It looked like a large safe. It had a spin combination lock instead of a normal door handle. Tank rolled the cylinder and opened the door. We walked into a large open room. It was painted flat white, like the hallway. Directly across from where we stood was another chamber door, this one looked like it belonged on a submarine. I knew by the look of it, that the New Jersey tunnels would be directly behind it. I eyed it apprehensively. There was no other reason for a door like that to be in this building. The room smelled slightly of mildew. I didn't think anyone came in here often enough to air the place out.

"All the electrical systems are down on this level." Cal stated. "We have to keep the maintenance in-home. If we didn't, the city would know everything about this building. They never really checked it out when they seized it. There is a separate set of working boxes on the second basement level, but down here is where everything really is. From this floor, you can shut RangeMan down with a flick of a switch."

"Should we do it now? Turn everything off?" I asked. I wondered if all the power went out, if it would be easier or harder to find the man inside the building. Cal answered my question for me.

"Shutting everything down would make it too easy for him to escape. We have turned on every available light in the entire building; we don't want to give him anywhere to hide. Plus, it won't matter if he gets the copies as long as we have the real deal. He is taking a lot of chances. If I was him, I would be in Bermuda by now. Why stay? Why not get the hell out of Dodge before anyone catches you?"

Tank was in security mode. He didn't care why; he just wanted to get us gone as quick as possible. In his brain, theory is fine for working situations out once things are calm. We were far from safe at the moment. My brain worked differently. Tank was a lot more cautious than I have ever been. His mind is in the game, and it stays there. I admired him. My mind was more on what I would get for breakfast.

"Once we close this door we lose reception on all our phones. We are totally on our own until we get out of the sewer tunnels." Tank said. He opened a metal cabinet that was against the wall and handed us each a flashlight. Cal closed the outer door, sealing us in. I touched my cell phone for a moment. This was it. The tunnels were next.

There was a lockbox next to the vacuüm sealed metal door. I stared at the massive metal opening. I imagined glowing red-eyed alligators waiting for us to open the seal and step through, grabbing us one at a time, feasting on our bones. I pushed the thought away. Lester was looking at the door with the same disdain I felt. He whispered, "Did you hear about the Alligators?"

I looked at Tank. "Told you."

Tank took a deep frustrated breath as he opened the lock box and took out a stapled set of documents. They were coated in plastic. They appeared to be diagrams and maps of the system before us. "I grew up around alligators." Tank said, glaring at Lester. "In the swamps of South Carolina and Louisiana. We had dangerous snakes, alligators; fish that would make piranhas look like sissies and bugs as large as your fist. Not just make believe ones that live in the sewers. I had an alligator as a pet. They are big lizards. You are grown people. They need sun and warmth to move. Neither of those things exists down here. If you see an alligator, I will give you a cookie. Other than that, shut the fuck up and let's get the hell out of here. I am not exactly thrilled with underground small spaces. I would be more worried about me freaking out than I would alligators. Let's just get this shit over with.

Lester and I looked at each other. The air had escaped from my "told you so" balloon. Now I felt a little like an idiot. I thought he would still change his tone once he set eyes on the glowing eyed monsters, but I guess I needed to keep it to myself.

Tank read through the instructions. He found what he was looking for and opened the hatch. Air escaped as the door opened. Inside, I could hear water flowing, and ooze dripping. It was dark, but larger than I imagined it to be. I thought of the Ninja Turtles. They never saw alligators. It gave me a little hope. We turned on the flashlights. The smell grabbed hold of me first. I tried to hold my breath, not wanting to have to take another, but it was inevitable. I had to breathe. I was glad I hadn't eaten breakfast. It was hard not to throw up. I held it down and stepped through the entrance behind the rest of the men.

The ground felt squishy under my boots. Something wet and slimy dropped on my head. I silently made a squeal of a little girl and reached up and touched slimy green goo. Oh God. Really? I moved away from the door and into the tunnel. I was now officially slimed. Tank closed the door behind us, securing the latches. The flashlights lit up the tunnel. This was it. We were in.

We stood staring at the large underground pipe. I tried not to imagine it caving in and trapping us here, but it was hard to keep the thought down. I swallowed hard. The pipe was about fifteen feet tall and thirty feet across. The only light I could see was the ones we brought in with us. No alligators so far. This was good.

A stream of sludge water flowed quickly through the middle of the tunnel. The channel was made of mostly brick and cement. The walls gleamed with gooey residue. The mucus was on the ground also, and if you weren't careful you could slip into the muck. We stood with our flashlights scanning the walls, looking for cracks, knowing the dangers of being underground.

Tank scanned the maps with his flashlight. "We are going to the Trenton Police Station. Joe Morelli is meeting us there. He knows we are coming through the tunnels. He said there is a manhole in the back parking lot. He will secure the area and wait.

The police station was pretty far from where we were. "How long do you think it will take to get there?" I asked.

"A couple of hours if the tunnels lead the way the map tells us they do." Tank said. He shined his flashlight down the tunnel into the darkness and started walking. "Let's get going." None of us wanted to be left behind. We followed him into the abyss.

We moved quickly, walking silently. I tried not to think about how far underground we actually were or what the hell was growing on the walls. I concentrated on the person in front of me. At the moment, it was Tank. I hoped that the tunnels moved as the crows fly and we would be back in the land of the living before I knew it. So far, I hadn't seen any alligators. I did see rats, but not huge ones. I can handle normal size rats. The further we go into the city, the more sludge water accumulates. The water is now ankle-deep. Thank goodness for my boots. Thank you Tank for telling me to change. I would have been miserable in my Chucks. So far the tunnel has broken off five times. Each time we take the tunnel on the right. With each tunnel, more grungy water. It is moving away from us as we walk a slightly inclined pipe. I am trying not to focus on the fact that I am getting claustrophobic. I keep eyeing the ladders and spray painted arrows that tell me go up into the fresh air... go now! I push the words away and look back at the big man in front of me, he chugs along as if nothing bothers him. Everyone is silent as we move towards the city.

Tank stopped in front of me. His flashlight shining on the map again and then he reads some of the spray painted numbers that are on the walls. The tunnel breaks off again. We head to the right. Much to my dismay, the water keeps rising. It is now up to the top of my boot and I can feel it seep into my sock as I walk. My legs hurt, my hair is soaked with the splashes of the muck and the damp air is making it uncomfortable to breathe. My nose started to run about an hour ago,and I have run out of clean places to wipe it. I know that everyone is keeping their mouths closed. No one talks. I doubt anyone wanted to give the sewer water any opportunities to get in. Tank tied a cloth around his mouth and nose. Lester had taken the bandanna he had over his head and follows suit. Everything I had on was already soaked. It wouldn't do any good to put something wet and filthy over my face.

I decide to just keep my eyes on Tank. If I stay directly in his wake, then I can focus on him as we moved through the underground and not on the noises of creatures I kept hearing. I felt sorry for the Ninja Turtles. If they really had to live down here, they would smell terrible.

The water is now halfway up to my knee. I am trying not to look too hard when I notice a dead cat float by me. It is followed by a large dead rat. At least I hoped it was a rat. I heard Cal cough behind me. I guess he got a better look at both of them then I did. There was more life in this tunnel than any of the others. I didn't know if I was happy about it because we were now closer in to the city, or horrified. I tried not to jump as three large rats swim by me on their way upstream. One hits my leg as it moves by and it squealed. I can't stop myself, I jump, hitting Cal behind me. I wanted to jump into Cal's arms like a frightened housewife. I was done with this underground tunnel shit. I did not want to be in the water anymore.

"Sorry!" I push myself off Cal and realize I need to be a grown up. I can do this, I say to myself. The rats jet off in another direction. I can't stop myself from watching them leave. It is hard not to grimace. They were big, about the size of my foot. They did seem more afraid of us than I was of them. That was good. I hoped I had the same luck with all the creatures I encountered. Then, I thought I should hope not to see any more creatures, instead of hoping to have harmonic relationships with them. I didn't mind rats. I liked them in the pet store, and I had a boyfriend in elementary school that raised them. I bottle fed some of the little suckers. These were sewer rats. Totally different in my book.

As we walked on, the smells began to get worse. I tried hard to hold my breath and only breathe when necessary, but it was no use. I wanted to take my shirt off and put it over my nose. I didn't care if they all saw me in my sports bra. I started to tug off my shirt when Tank stopped in front of me. I ran into him.

"Sorry!" I said for the second time in an hour.

Tank pulled the pack with the tapes off his leg. He held the now wet map in one hand, the tapes in the other. "This is the last tunnel." He said. I used my flashlight to see the tunnel before us. Black water poured out in a constant stream. "If we stay to the sides, we should be ok." He looked at me. Stay behind me. Have Cal and Lester behind you. You are the shortest and lightest. I want them to be able to catch you if you lose your footing. The tunnel has a bit of an incline. We need to walk another mile, and then we will be close to the station."

A mile uphill in almost knee-deep black water? Great, Ok Stephanie. You can do this. My brain thought otherwise. I kept imagining getting knocked into the black water. "Can't we just come up now? I mean, we could just walk to the station from here. Why do we still need to be underground?" I thought I had a valid point. We were away from RangeMan now. Why keep trudging around in the sewer?

"No." Tank said. "We need to stay underground. It is the best way."

"The best way my ass! Who came up with this stupid plan anyway?" I was ready to get out of here. I didn't want to go into black water.

The men stood around me waiting, I suppose for me to get a grip. I bent down, putting my hands on my knees. The tunnel and the stench were getting to me. If I was making the calls around here, we would be out of the tunnel and in a cab by now.

Cal spoke up. "Trust us, Stephanie. This is the best way. We need to stay hidden. We don't want anyone to see us go to the station. It has to be this way."

"No," I said. "It doesn't have to be this way. We aren't in Romania or wherever you guys usually work, this is New Jersey. Civilization! We should take a cab." I looked pleadingly at all three men. None of them were going to budge. All of them stared at me like big oxen. They followed orders. Tank had given them. There would be no mutiny on this ship today. I knew if they had to, I would get thrown over someone's shoulder kicking and screaming. I was defeated. My vote did not count.

Tank waited. "Ready?"

I did some deep breathing. "Yes. Lead the way."

We walked on. I wished no one would have told me we were close. It made me feel desperate. It was taking too long. I kept gauging the walk, knowing we had hiked more than a mile. Everyone just kept walking. It was annoying. After I was sure we walked more than two miles, Tank stopped to look at the map. His flashlight lit up the paper that was now dirty with dirt and slime. He wiped some of the filth off and followed the route with his finger. Then, he took his flashlight and read the numbers on the wall next to a ladder. "This is 1125. We are looking for 1150. Let's keep going. The numbers are going up from here."

Ok, so I had something to concentrate on. I was hoping they would skip a few numbers, maybe go by fives. I saw the next ladder. I hoped it would say 1135 or at least 1130. It said 1126. We were in for a long walk.

Number 1149 was a glorious sight. Almost there. I started to walk faster, knowing the next one would be it. I spied the ladder from ten yards away. I wanted to run to it, but instead I followed along behind Tank. He never sped up, he never slowed down. He stayed moving at a nominal pace. I wanted to push him, make him move his ass. Finally the ladder was in front of us. He turned and looked at the men behind me. "this should be it." He draped the tapes over his shoulder and folded the map, putting it back in his pocket. He unholstered his gun. I pulled mine out, more for show than for use. I heard the men behind me do the same. "Are you ready?" He said to us.

Before Tank could start-up the ladder, someone opened the cover. Bright light shined down into the hole we stood in. It blinded me. I couldn't see, but I aimed my gun anyway. The sun was still far below the horizon but we still had to squint at the brightness of the outside world. Tank had his gun aimed up at the cover, waiting. I heard a voice.

"Come on, It's secure. Let's get you guys out of there." It sounded a lot like Joe. I hoped it was Joe.

Tank climbed up first, then me. Cal and Lester trailed behind, shutting the cover on the manhole behind them.

Joe stood away from us, politely holding his hand over his face. "Nice escape. You pay extra for that?" He waved his hand in front of him and backing away farther.

"Nope." Tank said. "The smell is a surprise bonus. I think I have some ideas for some upgrades."

"If you keep Stephanie around, you may want to make it part of the tour."

I couldn't think of a good comeback for the remark, but I filed it away for another day. I was happy he was willing to come out and help with this. Tank had decided to bring Joe in because he and Trisha were the only ones Ranger trusted to help us.

Tank's phone rang. He walked away to answer it. I stood with my brothers in stench. Joe stood about fifteen feet from us, trying to breathe clean air. Tank was frowning when he came back. "The building is clear. Ramon and Hal have done a thorough search. Whoever was in the building is gone. The vault was breached. They got the copies of the tapes."

Joe came closer. He looked at me and mouthed "Tapes?"

"We have the surveillance tapes that were taken off the body of Tony Barella." I said. "I made a deal with some people. If I called the police about the dead body, I got the tapes. We went and picked them up yesterday at Vinnie's.

Joe folded his arms in front of him and looked down. "I don't like where this is going."

Connie was meeting me at Vinnie's. We were supposed to wait for someone who would tell us where the tapes would be. Then we would pick them up and that would be that." I said. "When I told Tank where I was going, he decided to come with me. Vinnie's security alarm was going off when we pulled up. Connie was waiting for us out front. Tank checked the back to turn the alarm off. There were two dead guys by the back door. Connie said they were the ones she was suppose to get the information from."

Joe didn't look surprised. I think he must have already known about the dead guys.

"Let's move this conversation indoors. If this person has already left RangeMan, who knows where he is headed next."

Tank eyeballed Joe, standing very close to him. I knew that Joe was having a hard time being so close to sewer smell. I saw his nose twitch. Maybe this would make up for the comment he made earlier. "These tapes have caused a lot of problems." Tank said. "We need to make sure that we can hold onto them once we walk into that station. I will die before I hand them over to the FBI, or anyone else."

Joe was not a man to back down, even when the person in front of him was twice his size and smelled like ripe old cabbage and rotting death. He stared harshly back into Tanks eyes. They were toe to toe. "The FBI has your boss on a plane to Quantico in the morning. They are satisfied that they have wrapped up the case here. They feel Ranger will be in better hands in Virginia, while they work on the case against him. I have not told anyone about the investigation that Stephanie and RangeMan have been dipping into. No one will have any idea what the hell is going on when I bring you in. It is four in the morning. Most of the activity will start around six. That gives you two hours to figure your shit out before we need to worry about it. I have set up a place for you inside that is safe. No mics, no cameras, no nothing. I had no idea you were bringing in evidence, so we will figure out what to do once we are inside. The chief of police and my supervisor never have had me on a leash. They know I do things in an unorthodox way, and they know Stephanie. No one will question the fact that you all smell like shit. Let's just get you inside so nothing else can happen.

Joe stood back from Tank, looking at the motley crew that was in front of him. "Ladies first." He said, beckoning me to start the parade.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Dawn was fast approaching as we walked into the building. The city was waking up. People would be getting ready for the day, never thinking about what flowed through the tunnels under their feet. I wondered if anyone actually lived under the city. If there were places like you see in movies with railway cars left for dead, and cities underground, I think I would pass. The smell and the filth that came with the unique living quarters would be intolerable. I was having a hard time smelling the stench permeating from all of us. We needed out of these clothes.

The room Joe brought us into was as basic as it could get, and completely right for a police station. The walls were off white and needed repainting. A long wood table sat alone in the middle of the room. It was probably older than the mayor and had the scuffs and scars to prove it. Twelve folded industrial metal chairs leaned against the far wall. The room was bland, boring and cold. Joe said it was the best he could do. It was the only interrogation room they had that wasn't wired for sound. None of us argued. I was grateful we had someplace to lay low; believe it or not, it felt safe being at the cop shop.

When he left the room, the door had locked behind him. I watched it, thinking that it was probably a precaution. He just didn't want anyone coming in and questioning what we were doing here. At least that was what I was hoping. Joe was trustworthy almost ninety-nine percent of the time. It was that one percent that bothered me. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to find a comfy spot to sit on the metal chair, but it was no use. My pants were soaked, and my feet itched from being in wet boots. My favorite black hoodie was ripped in three places, and the smell coming from it was almost overwhelming. I had been splashed in the face more than twelve times, and one of those times, I think my mouth was open. My hair, thank goodness had been pulled back, but the slime that dripped on me when we first walked in the tunnels, was slowly moving down the back of my neck.

I glanced at the waterproof pack. It sat in the middle of the table. I thought back to all the damage those tapes had caused. My foot started itching again and I shifted in my chair once more. It was safe to say, none of us were very comfortable. I think I wasn't the only one who was trying to find something else to concentrate on besides myself. Tank leaned back in his chair. His arms were crossed, his cell phone was up to his ear as he listened to the latest report from RangeMan. Lester leaned forward on the table, trying to pick the gunk out from underneath his fingernails. And Cal, he was sitting upright, glaring at the pack. We all shared the same grim look. I didn't care who stepped through the door next, they were giving us clean clothes, and maybe a couple of towels.

"Someone pulled that fire alarm from the inside!" Tank screamed into the phone. "There are fifty separate alarms in that building. That one was pulled on the 5th floor. Not only did someone walk in, but they got up to five without being seen? You tell me how that happened!" Tank's conversation with the security team was not going well.

I looked over at Cal. His attention was still on the pack, but we were all listening to what was happening on the phone. "I thought you smelled smoke, then the building alarms went off because of it." I said.

"He set off smoke bombs. They don't smell like fire, they smell like chemicals. Our system knows the difference. The alarms didn't trigger. He had to manually pull one. Apparently, the goal was to get everyone out of the building."

"How do you know it was him? I mean, couldn't it have been someone who smelled the smoke? Someone who was suppose to be on the 5th floor? Maybe it was a tenant."

"The surveillance cameras picked him up. I think he knew our night team was slack. The bastard threw what looked like a grenade. He looked directly at the camera, flipped us off and pulled the alarm."

I leaned forward. "So you know what this guy looks like?"

"He wore all black, including the hoodie." Lester said, cutting in. "He had on black gloves, a black face mask and wore black sunglasses. All nondescript clothing. The sunglasses are not even unique. This guy knew what he was doing. All we know is that he is about six-foot tall, maybe six-one. That's all we got. That description won't help us." Lester crossed his arms in front of him. His huge biceps bulged out even more, making him seem more like a giant on steroids. He looked angrily at Tank. "Security failed. If that's Jeremy on the phone, I would say he is up shit creek."

"How do you know that it isn't an employee or a tenant that lives in the building doing this?" I asked tentatively.

"All the tenants and staff have been accounted for." Lester said. He turned his attention back to Tank's conversation.

"If you guys can't find the breach in the next twelve hours, consider your team unemployed." Tank closed the phone and threw it on the table. "They are all incompetent. We should have guarded the building last night. What the fuck was I thinking letting them do it?"

All conversation stopped when The lock on the door tumbled and Joe walked in with Ranger. He had on the uniform of a prison inmate including the black slip on shoes. His eyes locked with mine. I took a deep breath. There was no denying it. I knew at this very moment why I had risked my life to free him. Ranger was more than just a casual sleeping partner, we had moved past that. Ranger was part of my future. I could feel it. He looked rugged. I doubted he had come anywhere near a razor since he was picked up. It made him look wild and unpredictable. Believe it or not, it also made him twice as hot. Holy cow, how was that even possible? I knew if I didn't stop ogling him, I would start to drool.

"He was out of his cage." Joe said, as he closed the door behind him. "I figured I would bring him along."

Ranger stood near the door. He didn't come any closer. He surveyed his team, then he focused on me. His piercing brown eyes were unreadable. My heart beat loud in my chest. That was it, he was the one. Accept it Stephanie. You are in love with a man in an orange jumpsuit. My mother will just have to deal with it.

He shifted his attention to the dirty pack lying on the table in front of us. "Smells like you guys have been busy. You need to get out of those clothes, and take hot showers." He turned back to Joe. "They will get sick."

Joe used his cell phone and made the arrangements. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was about to get on my hands and knees and beg for clean clothes and a shower. I could have kissed Ranger right in front of everyone, and I would have too, if I didn't have shit all over me.

A woman named Pam led me to the showers; I must have smelled pretty ripe. She held her breath when she handed me a couple of towels, shampoo and soap.

"Christ, that smell is bad!" She said as she opened up a trash bag. "Put everything in here." I could tell she was having a hard time with the aroma that flowed off of me. Her eyes welled up and her nose started to run. I didn't think she knew what she was getting into when Joe had asked her to help. "You don't want any of these clothes back, do you?"

"I don't think I ever want to see these clothes again. It's probably a good idea if no one touched them either. I have no idea what was in that sewer, but whatever it was, needs to stay down there." I handed her my clothes, dumping them into the bag. "I think it is safe to say that they are pretty much toast. I am throwing the boots in too."

"Good idea." She said, as she closed the bag up tight.

I scrubbed until my skin was pink, hoping the smell would leave. Even with the strong soap, I could still smell the sewer. Was it my imagination? What if the smell never went away, and I had to bathe in perfume to keep my skin from radiating toxic funk? I hoped this was all in my head.

Pam left clean clothes sitting on the bench next to the showers. I took a deep breath and began dressing in prison orange. Beggars can't be choosers, I said to myself. I wondered if this was Joe's idea. Then again, clean was clean. I didn't care if I had to wear a paper bag, as long as it was uncontaminated.

When I was finished dressing, I checked myself out in the full length mirror. Ya know, for prison clothes, these weren't half bad! I turned around as I looked at my new outfit from every angle. I fluffed up my wet hair and tried to be dignified. Jumpsuits were sort of back in style, right? I pulled on the little booties she had given me, and hoped that no one grabbed me when I walked out, thinking I was about to escape.

"Sorry about the clothes." Pam said, when I came around the corner. "The uniforms are all we had."

"It really isn't that bad." I said, looking down at the jumpsuit. "They are pretty comfortable."

"I always wondered about that. Not that I want to find out first hand." She said, as we walked out. "I put your clothes bag in the incinerator with the rest of the things your friends came in with. I hope that's okay."

"Thanks." I said. "I was afraid you might give them back."

She told me that everyone was in room 408. She wished me luck and walked back to her desk.

I spied a snack machine on the way back to the room. The only thing that looked good was a snickers bar. This whole escaping through the tunnels thing left me a little on edge. Sometimes sugary things like doughnuts and birthday cake helped me feel brave. I didn't know if a snickers bar would have the same effect, but I was willing to give it a shot. Plus, Ranger was in that room. I needed some help with my self-control. I was almost to the door when I decided to go back for another one, just in case the first one didn't work.

All of us were dressed in orange. Apparently street clothes were not available for any of us. I think we were lucky they gave us what they did. At least the smell was down to a minimum. It seemed to permeate now only from the middle of the table, where the pack sat.

The Kevlar cover was off and Ranger and Tank were looking at the tapes. Ranger glanced up for a moment, his eyes catching mine before sliding down to my uniform. I saw a hint of a smile as he casually slid out the chair next to him. It's a weird feeling being in the same room as both your current boyfriend, who is in jail and your ex-boyfriend, who is guarding him. It made things slightly uncomfortable.

I finished off the candy bar and sat down. Ranger was separating the tapes that he had pulled out of the pack. He looked at one of them closely, then dropped it back onto the table leaning back in his chair, looking at Joe. "We are going to need gloves. Some of the tapes have blood on them."

I bent forward, looking at the tape in question. It had smears of something red on it. I noticed that some of the other tapes had the same. That was probably Tony's blood. I didn't think he was all that innocent of a person, but I didn't think he deserved to get whacked that night. Joe pulled his cell phone out of this pocket and made a call. He asked for the status of the micro-cassette player and told them to bring in some gloves and some more plastic bags.

Ranger leaned towards me while Joe was busy talking on the phone. "You look cute in orange." He whispered, touching my sleeve. "You're going to want to keep these. I have plans." He locked eyes with me. I think I stopped breathing. His eyes were dark and intense. His mouth twitched into a little smile, then he directed his attention back to his adversary.

I think my blood pressure went up twenty points. Get a hold of yourself, Stephanie. Stop being such a sex fiend! Ranger is in jail, for chrisakes. Our shoulders were touching. I was having a hard time convincing myself that I shouldn't just sit in his lap. I put my head down and counted to ten.

"Okay, now that everyone is here…." Joe said. He paused when the door opened and Trisha walked in with Michael Rosewall and one of his assistants. Not only was I thankful for the distraction, but I was relieved to see Ranger's lawyer. He needed to hear the tapes as much as we did. I didn't want Ranger to be transferred out. Micheal might be able to stop it with new evidence.

Micheal's assistant's name was Wiseman. He was wafer thin and had curly brown hair that was cut above his ears. Both wore dark gray suits and black shoes. They were impeccably dressed. I had done some research on Michael and his firm. They only took on certain clients. I also knew his fees were probably more than my mother and father made in a ten year span. Micheal told us he wanted to come in early because of the transfer, and he was thrilled we were here trying to stop it from happening.

Trisha dropped some files on the table next to Joe. She waved her hand in front of her face and glanced over at Tank. "I think we need a candle or some air freshener in here. Couldn't you have found a better way out of the building?"

Tank smiled politely, and crossed his arms in front of him. None of us apologized for the smell.

Rosewall and Wiseman sat across from us. They both busied themselves with what ever was hidden inside their briefcases. After Trisha sat down, Joe leaned forward on the table and looked directly at me. "I think it would be a good idea if you tell us everything that has happened since we last talked. Apparently our investigation is moving a lot slower than yours is. It would be nice if we were all on the same page. Especially since my ass is the one on the line for letting this little meeting go on without anyone's approval."

"I think your ass will be pretty safe." Rosewall said. "I will make sure that your captain knows that I set up the meeting. I asked you to assist. We had the safety of these people in question. Lay the whole thing on me, and send any clothing bills and charges to my office. No one will need to know anything different."

Joe looked back at Ranger and Rosewall. He nodded his head. "I would appreciate that." Joe glanced back at me. Okay, sport. Tell us whats been happening."

I guess in front of Ranger and Trisha the term "Cupcake" wouldn't fly so well. Now I am "Sport". I wasn't sure I liked that anymore than "Cupcake".

We took turns telling what had happened in the last week. We told them everything we could think of, including some things that slid over the legal line. I saw Joe flinch a couple of times, but all in all, I think he took it all in stride. Sometimes you need to get your hands dirty. It may have been wrong to break in to Seabring's office, but if we hadn't, the men that came in after us would have the files now. I believed we had done the right thing. No one at the bureau would care if Ranger took the fall for Jeanne. Tank finished with the story of the tapes and how Connie's uncle lost two men trying to get them to us. I saw the anger in Tanks eyes when he told Ranger that security at the building had failed.

"Whoever took the tapes from RangeMan's vault last night, is not going to be very happy when they find out most of the tapes are blank." Ranger said. "How many did you copy?"

"Only about fifteen." Tank said. "Tony Barrella had fifty two tapes on him when he was found. We only kept the finished ones in the vault. There is a chance the guy wont know."

"He'll know when he plays them." Ranger said quietly.

"If he plays them." Micheal said. "Micro-cassette players are not as common as they use to be. If he doesn't have one, he will have to find one somewhere. Everything is done with memory chip recorders now." He held a small device in his hand and closed his briefcase, locking it and setting it next to him on the floor. The little machine was about five inches long, had a digital display and a speaker. He turned it on. We heard pieces of our conversation repeated. I hadn't even known he was recording us. "They are thin, small and light. They have a great range. You can even record a concert on one if you are in to bootlegging shows, or record someone without them even knowing."

"I think he will find a way to play them." Tank said "I would want to know what the guy had seen."

"If your right, he will find out pretty quickly that the tapes for the night of the murder are not there." Joe said.

"We need to listen to those tapes." I said, knowing it was obvious, but still wanting my opinion heard. "Whoever did this, will take off."

"Do you want the beginning, or the end?" Lester said.

There was a knock on the door. Eddie walked in with the missing cassette player and gloves. Trisha slid her chair closer to Ranger. She used a key she had in her pocket and unlocked his handcuffs. "I think it is safe to let you off your leash in here." Trisha handed a file to Ranger. He opened it and started thumbing through the contents.

Joe looked at his watch. "We need to speed this shit up. The morning is losing its edge, people."

Trisha looked at her watch. "He's right. It's already five thirty."

Ranger scanned through the papers, while Trisha looked on. "We dusted for prints at Edward Montoya's." She said. "The place, thankfully had not been rented out. No clean-up crew has been through the apartment yet. Mr. Montoya's family has chosen to keep the apartment for at least another month so they can clean it up and move all of his things out. We got lucky. Usually families opt to have a cleaning crew go in and clean for them."

Ranger looked up from the file and glanced over at Rosewall. "When this meeting is over, check in with Eddie's family. See if they need any financial support with the clean up. RangeMan will foot the bill. Let them know." Rosewall nodded and wrote a note for himself.

"Jeanne's prints are all over the apartment." Trisha continued. "Some look newer, some are older. She was definitely involved with him in some way. I have shown this new evidence to my supervisor, but so far, it wasn't enough to permit the re-opening of his case. Not yet, anyway."

"Has anyone checked his DNA?" I asked. Jeanne was pregnant. Someone had to be the father.

"I put in a request for DNA, but Mr. Montoya was cremated last weekend. Because it was deemed a suicide, the body was released to the family. We don't have any samples."

"We have blood samples of all our employees. Ramon can get them for you." Ranger said, still reading the file that Trisha had given him.

He had my attention. Why would RangeMan have blood work for employees? Drug tests? Gene splicing? Are they vampires?

I looked over at Tank, but he remained stolid.

The table had gotten quiet. I didn't think there was a person in the room except for the RangeMan employees that found this odd. Finally Ranger looked up from the file. He knew why we were quiet."To work for RangeMan, you have to submit blood work. It is kept for identification and some of us want to have a supply of plasma available if we need it. Having your own blood for transfusions is more important that you may think. Eddie opted in. We drew blood from him every month."

I suppose it was a good idea. I thought. Instead of taking someone else's blood, they use their own. I did know that some hospitals do this with patients that are going in for surgery. Ok, not that big of a deal, right? So he was overly cautious about his blood. Maybe he is a little paranoid. so what. I said to myself. But, It did seem weird. Had I found a flaw? I was sure there was a logical explanation behind it.

I suddenly needed to know, and I tried to ask in a casual way, but my voice cracked."So, do you have a supply of blood available at RangeMan?"

Ranger looked over at me. "I used all of it. I've never gotten around to replacing it again." He returned to reading the file, but the room remained silent. I don't think anyone at this table besides Cal, Lester,Tank and Ranger have ever needed to have a supply of blood handy.

"Okay." Trisha said, breaking the silence. "Just have Ramon bring me the sample and I will send it out to be tested."

Tank pulled out his cell phone and texted Ramon. I knew they would have those samples within the hour. RangeMan was an efficient operation. So what if they were paranoid about blood transfusions.

Joe, Ranger and Tank put gloves on and started sorting the tapes by date and time. Tank found the first tape from when Tony Barella started working the assignment. Joe dropped the tape into the machine and pressed play. Immediately the tone of the room was quiet and serious as we all listened to a voice from the grave give a mission statement.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The voice on the tape was Tony's. He mumbled through a couple sentences that sounded scripted. Thanking Mother Mary, his mom and pops, and most of all the Pope for keeping him safe. He also said some legal mumbo jumbo about how he was doing surveillance on his own accord as a hobby and in no way shape or form was he working or accepting payment from anyone. He might as well have put his two fingers together and said "scouts honor."

According to the dates on the tapes, surveillance started a few weeks prior. Tony watched in different locations close to Jeanne's building. He was busy learning her schedule, watching and recording her every move. I wondered if he knew what brand peanut butter she used, and when she went to the bathroom. I bet you twenty bucks if we listened to all the tapes, we would find out he investigated that very thing. When you are on this type of surveillance, you not only learn the routine, you know the person. It would be a lot easier to manipulate someone when you knew how they lived day to day. You would find out what is important to them, what keeps them going. What makes them tick. How easy would I be to manipulate? I bet It would be pretty simple. Everyone has an Achilles heel. Find out what that is, and your in like Flynn. I wasn't sure what mine was. Maybe Grandma Mazur. Maybe anyone in my family. Not only that, If I was hungry enough I might do quite a bit for a peanut butter and olive sandwich, too. I wonder what Jeanne could have been manipulated with. And Ranger? What could he be manipulated with? These kind of things are what keep me up at night.

Tony had gone through two days, recording Jeanne's moves. When she left, when she came home, when she took out the trash, when she brought home food. On the third day, she had a visitor. Tony described him as a young Mexican American, early twenties driving a gold Honda Civic. Licence Plate L21 530.

Joe wrote down the plate, and sent a text. The man was at her flat for three hours. He came out, got in the Honda and left the parking lot at 4:04 pm. EST. At 5:01 Jeanne Ellen walked out and got into a black SUV, and left the parking lot. Joe stopped the tape.

"The Honda is registered to a Felicia Montoya."

"That's Edward's mother." Ranger said, quietly.

The Honda was recorded five more times in eight days. Edward Montoya was identified by the second tape. Tony had broken into his car and found paperwork from Rangeman with his name on it. Tony mentions a phone tap was now in place. Joe found the tapes that said PT and stacked them by dates.

"We need her phone records." Ranger stated.

Joe nodded. "Already ahead of you. They will be here in a few minutes. I had to get clearance."

"Make sure you get her cell phone records and her text messages. She used text a lot. It is the only way we communicated. I wasn't the only one. She used it when I was with her.

Joe shifted uneasily in his seat. "It will be included. But I can't shield personal shit from you to her/her to you. You know that right?"

"I don't text private conversations."

Joe picked up the phone and made the request for cellphone records including text. We listened to Jeanne's every day life being broken up in time incriminates. I wondered about mine. What would my life look like to a group of people sitting around listening? After only a few days of surveillance I knew one thing for sure, Cat Woman seemed a lot more domesticated. Apparently she never cooked, she ordered take out every night she was home. All from different places too. This got me thinking. What if the take out guys were not really delivering food? Or maybe they were delivering food and information. Secret spy stuff.

Jeanne drank wine & water. No soda, no beer, no fun as far as I am concerned. No sweets that Tony noticed. There in lies the problem. She never ate sweets. How was that possible? She did her own laundry, and she watched TV just like seventy-five percent of the population of America. She was a fan of The Food Network. She watched it religiously, but she never cooked. Tony went through her trash. Apparently that bugged him. He mentioned it more than once. Her trash consisted of empty food containers,wine bottles, and that was it. What did she do with other trash? It irked me. I always had tons of trash. This woman, nothing personal at all. If someone were to go through my trash, holy cow. I didn't want to think about that.

Joe stopped the third tape and put in the first phone tap conversation tape that corresponded with the dates we had heard so far. Les Sebring called a lot. He asked about cases, demanded Jeanne stop by the office, He even asked about coming by to see her, or when she would drop in to see him. By the third tape, it was obvious Les had a relationship with Jeanne. It was also clear he did know about the office on the third floor. That was usually part of the conversation.

Joe looked at his notes, as the tape droned on. Jeanne was talking to Les Sebring again about what time she was coming in. Joe started flipping pages and I noticed that he looked slightly off kilter. I think he must have had the same revelation I did about Jeanne and Les. He stopped the tape. "Les Sebring?" He said in an incredulous tone. "Is that who is calling her so much? Isn't that her boss?" He didn't seem all that excited about figuring out who was seeing Jeanne.

"It answers a lot of questions." Ranger said.

"Let me just get this straight." Joe's tone had changed from relaxed to irritated in two seconds flat. A new record. "Les Sebring, the man who is friends with every political leader in the city; not to mention a close personal friend of the governor, is now on the suspect list for a murder investigation of an FBI agent? Shit, he golfs with the Chief of Police and the Mayor. Not only that, but he gives hundreds of dollars charity, and to this police force. If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't even have a forensics lab."

"That's more reason to check him out. He has to much influence over this city. I would say he just flew to the top of the suspect pile." Trisha said. "We need his DNA. It is very possible he is the father of that baby."

"Oh no." Joe said. "I am not putting in that request. Sebring helped build this police force. His funding keeps it going. Without his check every month, we wouldn't have vehicles that run. The last thing I want to do is accuse the father of this city of adultry, not to mention murder. Not going to happen." Joe dropped the folder on the table as to wash his hands of it.

Trisha didn't hesitate. "We need a warrant. I think we have probable cause."

"You would have to arrest him." Michael said. "Les Sebring is not going to be an easy mark. Les is loved in Trenton. No judge will want to sign a warrant on him."

"He is a suspect. A judge has to follow the law, just like everyone else."

Joe leaned back." This is great. Just great. You guys are doing a bang up job of getting me back on foot patrol."

I was trying really hard to concentrate on the tension in the room when Les' name came up, but all I could think about was Ranger's leg. It pressed against mine and his hand was on my knee. It was warm, and I was willing it to move.. maybe up my leg a little more. It was becoming unbearable and I was glad for the distraction that Les Sebring had brought out. My stomach was doing somersaults. I bit my lip to try to control myself. Suddenly, Joe looked over at me, probably to tell me how this was all my fault, but he stopped what he was saying. He had seen me in this predicament before. He was usually the one who put me there. It must have been pretty obvious. I seriously wanted to pull Ranger onto the table and tear all his clothes off. It was becoming increasingly difficult to control. I knew it,Ranger knew it and now, Joe knew it.

"Look," Joe said, taking a deep breath."Do I have to separate you two? Christ, Stephanie, have some self control."

I started to sweat. The jig was up. Everyone was looking at me. I think I must have turned five shades of red, stopping at beet.

Trisha looked over at Joe. "Can we continue?"

She glanced over at Ranger. "Carlos, behave yourself."

Ranger pulled his eyes away from the notes he was writing, and glared at her as he slowly took his hand off my knee. His leg stayed where it was.

I really missed Ranger. If he ever got out of here, we needed a week of alone time, at least. No interruptions.

I bit my lip, thinking about it.

"Jump to the end of the tapes." Ranger said. "Let's get this over with."

Joe found the tapes with the dates that corresponded with the murder. I wondered if Tony had any strange revelations when writing this information down on the blank cassette that they would one day be used to try to help solve his own murder. He popped the phone tap tape in first. This tape is labeled three days before the murders. It also is the only one that has red marker on it with the words FBI.

Jeanne: "Hello?"

"Can we expect results for number Thirty Two and Number Thirty-Three?"

Jeanne: "Both down. Nothing. Info Compromised. Both in the black. Need to close both cases."

"Why?"

Jeanne: "There's nothing."

"What about the original number four? Info still needed."

She paused and was silent for thirty seconds.

Jeanne: "I'm compromised with this."

"We need that information, agent. No such thing as compromised. This is your mission. That database is needed. Elimination of thirty three early was a mistake."

Jeanne: "I didn't eliminate. Self termination."

"Number thirty two going to be a problem?

Jeanne: "No, she's good."

"We need number four."

Jeanne: "I know. Thirty Three left.. floaters. I need to retrieve them. I've worn out my welcome. Can't get in."

"Find a way. This is your mess. You clean it up."

Jeanne: "what if I can't?"

"Find a way."

Jeanne: "I will, but then I am done."

"What about number thirty eight?"

Jeanne: "Clean. I want out."

There was a pause. "Number thirty eight leaves questions. We need investigation."

Jeanne: "If I give you number four, I am done. It will be the last one."

"What about Thirty eight?"

Jeanne: "Find someone else."

There was more of a pause. We waited to hear what they had to say about that.

"Give us four, and your done."

The caller disconnected.

Joe looked over at Ranger. "Are you number four or number thirty eight?"

Ranger shrugged. "I'm going with number four. That's why she was pissed that I wanted to break it off. She needed those files from Edward's desk."

"So they were asking her to give you up and she could leave? Who was thirty eight, Les?" I asked.

I started writing down the numbers.

Number Four=Ranger

Number Thirty Eight = Les

Number Thirty Two = Mary Maggie

Number Thirty Three = Edward

They were all being investigated. Why? Had she investigated Thirty eight people? If so, Who were they?

What did the FBI want from me? What database? Ranger asked.

"What ever it was, Jeanne had plans to give it to them, and then leave. Maybe Les and Jeanne were going to start a life together." Trisha said.

"Yeah, but why did she need to hand me over before she quit? They must have had some hold on her."

Joe dropped in the last tape. "Maybe this will shed some light on what was going on."

Mike O'Conner, one of the officers that work the front desk walked in dropping off a stack of papers.

Ranger whispered softly in my ear : "Jeanne's text messages."

Trisha picked up the stack and started going through them. Separating the piles into dates.

When the door closed again,Joe started the tape.

Tony's voice echoed in the room and we all paid attention. "August 27th."

Tony noted no activity until 10am. Jeanne leaving. Jeanne coming back, two hours later. Jeanne leaving again at 9pm. Then things got interesting.

"August 28th. 2:30 am. Vehicle approaching." Tony whispered. "Black Jeep, Licence 2BE XL7."

"That's my jeep." I whispered.

"Subject is Jeanne Ellen" Tony said quietly. " She is moving towards her front door. Subject is inside. Locking door."

Tony: "2:54 am. Vehicle approaching. Rolling quiet, no lights. Cannot read the license plate."

I knew that was probably Ranger's Porsche. His license had a reflective cover.

Tony: "Black. Carrera. Stops at marker 12. 2:57 am. Subject exits the vehicle."

Tony described Ranger. He even stated that he believed the subject to be Carlos Manoso. I looked over at Ranger. He was listening intently.

Tony: "2:59 am. Subject moving quietly to the black Jeep. Subject is searching the vehicle. Subject is now looking at a pole at the edge of the property. He is walking over to it and is taking something off. Looks like a security system. Subject may be tampering with security." There is a long pause. "Puts the box back together."

Tony: "3:05 am."

I held my breath. Well, here it was. What happens next makes or breaks my life. My leg started to shake. Ranger rested his hand on my knee again and looked towards me. His eyes were piercing. He held my gaze as we listened to the tape, telling me silently to believe him. I was trying. I really was.

Tony: "Subject approaching Burrow's door. Looks like he is using something to pick the lock. Subject is inside."

There was silence, the tape wined on. I could hear Tony breathing. I thought it was sad that it wasn't long after this, that he didn't get to breathe ever again.

Tony: "Possible in for the night."

Tony: "3:10 am. Another car is approaching." Tony's voice amplified. He was surprised.

Tony: "Car is stopping. Parking near market 17. License plate J27 519."

Tony: "3:16 am. Subject two out of vehicle. Silver BMW. Subject dressed in a gray suit. Approaching parking lot. Stopping. Subject is looking at the Porsche. Walking over to the Jeep. It looks like he is searching for something. He has found something under the drivers seat of the Jeep. Not sure..Could be a gun. He is now walking quickly towards Burrow's flat. Subject pauses. Now taking cover in bushes surrounding the sidewalk."

Tony: "3:20 am. Subject one out of apartment. He is walking across the parking lot. Passed by Subject two without noticing. I am confirming Carlos Monoso as subject one. Subject one walking into parking lot, Using cell phone."

Tony: "Subject one in the Porsche. 3:22 am. Subject one leaving. Exit towards main road."

Joe whispered "License J27 519 is registered to Les Sebring."

Tony: "3:24 am. Subject two is out of the bushes. Approaching Burrow's door. He opens it. Subject is standing at the open door."

Tony: "Oh Shit." Tape has deep breathing, you can tell he is surprised, there is a lot of background noise.

Tony: "Shots fired. 3:25 am."

Tony: "Shit." There was extreme panic in his voice.

Tony: "Subject has heard me, I made a noise when the shots were fired. I am in deep shit." It was hard to listen to. "Subject sees me." There was a lot of noise on the tape that sounded like a struggle or like he was trying to run. Then I heard the very audible sound of someone getting punched. Then it was quiet for a moment. The tape was still recording. Noise and static getting closer.

"Who the fuck are you? What the fuck are you doing here?"

I heard a loud sound. I jumped. I knew it was a gun. Tony had just been shot. It was horrible to hear. Then there was sounds of something getting dragged. Then the tape turned off.

We all sat there in stunned silence. Adjusting to the acknowledgment that we had heard Tony's murder.

"I don't know about "Beyond a shadow of a doubt", but I think it is safe to say Les Sebring needs to come in for questioning." Joe stated.

"If that was Les Sebring that broke into Rangeman tonight, then he has listened to these tapes, at least some of them." Hal said, glancing around the room. "Does anyone know anything about Les Sebring?"

Joe got on his radio. He told dispatch that Les Sebring needed to be brought in for questioning. He also told them that he might be armed and dangerous.

Trisha got a text. "They are doing DNA on Edward." She said. "When we get Sebring, He can also give us a sample."

"When can you release my client?" Micheal said, looking over at Joe.

"This evidence is circumstantial. We can't just drop charges. You know that." Joe said.

"So, what happens now?" I asked. I knew that Les would want to keep these tapes away from the police. He knew I had them last. That did not make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He may think he has the originals, but he also may think I listened to them already. I took a deep breath and tried not to hyperventilate.

"I need to get these tapes dictated and copied." Joe said. Putting all the tapes away.

"I think I will join him. Micheal said. "These tapes have caused enough trouble. I better keep an eye on them."

"Suit yourself." Joe said. "But if your going," He tossed a bag to Micheal. "Help me bag all this up."

Trisha's cell phone chirped, and she checked her messages. "I need to get back to the lab. She looked over at Ranger. "Good luck. I will let you know if I find out anything that will help."

Ranger assigned Tank to stay with the tapes. He didn't trust anyone but his own guys. Hal and Lester were back on with me. I now had two body guards. Being that I listened to a guy get killed a few minutes prior, I was okay with that. I had a pretty good case of the creeps. I would need to refrain from holding hands with them the rest of the day.

As soon as everyone was busy getting things organized, Ranger leaned over and kissed me, drawing me close, pulling me into his lap. Everything else was nonexistent in that moment. All I cared about was him. He was the driving force that made me feel not only safe, but alive. He made me feel brave.

Ranger broke contact as I heard Joe say: "Stephanie, you need to let go of him now. I have to get him back in lock up." I watched as Jpe cuffed him and walked him out of the room with Micheal and Tank in tow. I was hoping that I would never have to see him in cuffs again.

A few minutes later, Joe came back into the room. He asked Hal and Lester if he could talk to me alone for a few minutes. They closed the door behind them,waiting outside the door. Joe grabbed a chair and sat down. He pulled out another for me. We sat knee to knee.

"Are you going to be okay with all this?" Joe asked. "This is a monster of a case. We have evidence that the FBI forced an informant, agent, or what ever she was to do her job no matter what. She lost her life because of it. And Sebring. Don't even get me started. We don't even have a file on that guy. I have to start from scratch. In my book that makes him more dangerous."

I took a deep breath. I tried to smile. "Sure. i'm okay." Problem was, I didn't feel okay. I felt like crap. My stomach was in knots. I had just heard two people get whacked a few minutes ago, and the guy who did it, is probably after me now, too. Yeah, I am peachy. I hugged myself. "Do you believe that Jeanne,Edward And Tony would be alive and Ranger wouldn't be locked up if I would have stayed in Arizona?"

Joe leaned his elbows on the table and stared into my eyes. I honestly knew that Joe really did care about me. I could see it in his eyes, but that didn't matter. If I were to blame, I don't know what I would do. His gaze was intense. "Stephanie, It was fun to tease you for a while, but when I said that you were a walking disaster a year ago, it was personal. It wasn't suppose to be a factor to judge your life. It was an observation at a point of completely losing my patience with your crazy life. It was never intended to sum up everything you stood for. I am sorry that you think that is how I perceive you. I have a feeling that saying that to you has changed how you view yourself. I am truly sorry."

He touched my shirt. Both of us remembering just how easy it had been to take it one step further, or three. He let go, holding back, knowing that we both still felt love for each other but also knowing that there are some things you should let go of.

Joe smiled. "Prison clothes... Trisha needs to get some of those."

I glared at him and took a deep breath. Ignoring that last remark. "I'll be okay. I have Hal and Lester watching my back. I am not helpless, Joe. I'll be careful. I promise.

Joe nodded. Okay. Fair enough. You are a damn good detective, Stephanie. I am proud of you. I really am, and I won't turn off my phone. You call me if you feel like your in danger."

"It would be better if Ranger wasn't in Jail." I said. Knowing that was impossible.

Joe barked out a laugh. "Shit, if Ranger was out, He would lock you up so fast, your head would spin. He is terrified you are going to get hurt."

"He tell you that?"

"He said if anything happened to you, it would be on me. He's not leaving the jail, but If you get kidnapped or hurt in any way, he'll leave. He says it will be my fault if he escapes."

"You tell him I can take care of myself. Plus, Lester and Hal are going to be with me."

I'll tell him, but it won't do any good. If you haven't noticed, he does things his way. He just tells everyone else about it as a warning."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

I checked my watch for the third time in ten minutes. It was still early in the afternoon. Pacing back and forth was not getting me anywhere. I kept glancing at the phone, willing it to ring. I wanted to go down stairs and do something productive, but Tank told me that I was fidgeting so much he couldn't concentrate. Ranger's apartment was making me claustrophobic. I spent an hour at the gun range shooting targets, and two hours at the gym. My arms were sore, my legs were sore, but It didn't take away the uneasy feeling I had.

Ranger was suppose to have been released twenty four hours ago. We were still waiting for the call. Something was wrong. Four days had passed since we had given up the tapes to the police, care of one Joseph Morelli. Both Tank and Michael had copies made and then watched as the originals were taken in as evidence, and sealed away with a coded number. After what we had gone through to get them, no one was taking any chances.

Since then, I had been waiting for the story to break. So far, no huge manhunt was being conducted. No news reports suggesting a mass murderer was on the loose. Not in the local paper, not even on the internet. No reference to anything involving Sebring anywhere.

It felt like Michael Rosewall's receptionist was stone walling me. According to her, he was in court all morning, again. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was dodging my calls. Michael had been out of touch for two days. There was something going on I was not privy to. Not only did I feel like I was kicked out of the loop, I thought I might actually be out of the game.

Half of the Rangeman staff was gone. Tank's plate was full. I wasn't going to get a lot of support for conspiracy theories. He was letting Michael handle it. Jeremy's team had to be replaced and Eddie Montoya was still an open wound. To make up for it, everyone was working double shifts. Tank was now on as lead. He was bringing in people from other offices to help out. Rangeman would be hiring a whole new security detail. Tank wanted Kyle to manage them. Kyle Reese trained me in Phoenix. I had intentionally come on to him to get information about Ranger and the rest of the team. They were all so mysterious. Kyle had to know something. I thought if I flirted with him, he would open up about his old Army buddies. My plan backfired. He totally rejected me. I was thinking It might be slightly awkward seeing him again.

Ranger had been the one who told me to look Kyle up in Phoenix. He had a karate studio not far from our new office. His self defense classes were always full. He was a top notch instructor. Not only did he have Brad Pitts good looks, but he had the body of a cage fighter. Women paid top dollar to be taken down by Kyle. So I flirted with him. Maybe it was to get back at Ranger for telling Kyle "hands off". I was not a possession, and it pissed me off. In the end, It didn't matter. I could have taken off all my clothes and paraded around in front of him. He wasn't biting. He was a close personal friend of Rangers. Deep down, he wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. I had to respect him for it.

My mind was on Phoenix, wondering what would have happened if I actually would have taken all my clothes off. I had successfully gotten my mind off the clock. I heard my cellphone ring. I dug it out of my bag and said hello without checking who the caller was.

"Stephanie." The voice was low and raspy. I checked the screen, but it said private.

"This is she, who is this?"

"Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

The voice was so quiet I could barely hear. The person was laughing. I was positive the voice was male. I listened closely trying to understand what it was they were saying. Suddenly the voice changed. I heard Tony's voice. It was the tape recording of the last few moments of his life. I heard the surprise in his tone, the scuffle and the gun shot. I could even hear the body being dragged. That was the worst part. The caller shut the tape off.

"You won't be able to hide in that building forever."

I almost peed my pants. I realized he had hung up, but my hand was shaking so hard, I dropped the phone. I jumped away from it like it was a spider I couldn't get the courage to squish. I was not expecting a phone call. It threw me. The only people who had those tapes were Rangeman, Michael Rosewall, The Trenton PD and the person who stole the copies from our vault. Les Sebring. Shit.

He knew I was at Rangeman, and he knew I had listened to the tapes. I had worked it out in my brain that Les Sebring was no longer in Trenton. He was in Tahiti or Mexico. Maybe even the Bahamas or Mars. Anywhere but here. Why would he stay? He had a huge window of opportunity. He could have easily slipped away. Maybe he had. Maybe he was calling from some tropical paradise a million miles from here.

My confidence was shattered. Anyone who could catch Jeanne Ellen off guard, had my attention. I went to the window and looked out, searching for anyone that resembled a threat. I scanned the park across the street from the building. I saw a woman jogging and two others power walking, kids were playing on the swings. Then I saw him. My heart almost leapt out of my chest. He was watching my window. Rangeman had tinted windows. During the day, no one could see in. But It looked like he was staring right at me. He wore a brown bomber jacket and black slacks. His mirrored aviator glasses made it impossible to get an accurate facial description. His hair was dark brown, but I knew it was him. It was Les Sebring. He had dyed his hair.

I grabbed the phone from the floor and dialed Tank's number. I looked out again, and the man was gone. Tank answered after four rings.

"I just saw Les Sebring." I was taking deep breaths, trying not to panic.

"That's not possible." He said.

"What?"

"We got a call an hour ago. They found his boat floating off the coast. It was still burning when they got there. There is not a lot left. The police think Sebring, his wife, and their two daughters were on board. Coast guard says it looks like it could have been something electrical. The Fire Marshall is on his way now."

"That sounds hinky." I said

"Yes it does, but they are treating it like an accident."

"Do you think it was an accident?"

"No."

"He was in the park, Tank. Unless I have become The Ghost Whisperer, Les Sebring is alive. I hope they do dental on the bodies.

"Maybe it was someone who looked like him, could be a coincidence. "

"He called me first."

I thought I lost the phone connection. "Hello?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I just sent Hal and Lester over to check it out."

I called Joe.

"Make this quick. I'm in a meeting."

"Have they gotten the dental match for Sebring yet?" I asked.

"You heard about that? This just happened less than an hour ago. They haven't even gotten the boat into the harbor, much less anything off of it. I'm heading down there as soon as I clear this press disaster. Apparently, they think I need to make some official statement."

"You?"

"Yeah, go figure." Joe's voice turned to a whisper. "Don't get your hopes up for dental, Cupcake. Between you and me, it looks like a bomb, and Les might have been sitting on it."

"That doesn't sound like an accident."

"I am drawing the same conclusion."

I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs. I wanted to be there when they brought in the boat. I needed to see for myself that Les was dead. Tank had anticipated my actions. Hal was leaning on the back fender of my Jeep.

"We going somewhere?"

"I forgot to come and get you." I said lamely.

"Don't sweat it." Hal said. "My brother rode the short bus to school, too." He jumped in the passenger side, and buckled up.

"Good one." I said, as I eased my Jeep into the afternoon traffic. "Did you find anything at the park?"

"Yeah, a ripped up photograph of you."

I felt my heart beat a little faster.

The harbor was twenty minutes from Rangeman. As we drove, I could see black smoke in the distance. There was no need to check police channels for a location. Chemicals, water soaked burnt wood and a few things I didn't want to identify, got stronger as we pulled into the Harbor parking lot. The harbor master's office sat facing the docks. It doubled as a small general store that carried high priced fishing gear, packaged food, bait and of course, beer & ice.

Joe's tan Fairlane was parked haphazardly inside the police barrier. I swung the Jeep into the first place that looked relatively safe and cut the engine. There was crime scene tape across the entrance to the main boat docks. In the distance there was a tugboat pulling something that still smoldered. Black soot and gray smoke trailed behind what was left of Les Sebring's boat. I instantly felt horrible for his wife and kids. From what I remembered, his children were about the same age as my sisters kids. I hoped they had all died instantly.

I spotted Joe. He was watching as the wreckage was pulled into the dock. He saw us, and signaled one of the men nearest to let us through. The tugboat let the charred remains drift close enough to the dock to catch. The yacht was still smoldering. White billowy clouds rose up as fresh water was sprayed over the hot remains. I could hear the crackling embers as the cold water touched the smoldering pieces and parts that use to be "What Ever The Sea Brings." Near the back of the boat, there was a gaping hole. Wood was pulled up and splintered. It would be hard to say this was an electrical fire with a hole that big.

Joe walked over to us. He still had the swagger. He was wearing Jeans and a vest that stated "Police" with a white shirt underneath. I had to say, Joe was still the hottest cop in New Jersey.

"Wild horses couldn't keep you away, huh?" Joe shook hands with Hal.

"So, do you really think Les was on-board?"I asked. The air was thick with smoke and bad odors. I tried not to breath anymore than I had to.

Joe looked back at what was left. "That's what I am hearing. Why?"

"Who's working the case?"

"Not me, if that's what your thinking. Its going to Foster and Jones. They want me on as a consultant."

Joe folded his arms. "Okay, spill. I can tell when something is bugging you."

"What if I told you that wasn't Les Sebring on the boat?"

"I'm Listening."

"He called me."

"When?"

"Right before I called you."

"You sure it was his voice?"

"Well, No. Not positive. He was whispering. It was raspy sounding."

"Les doesn't have a raspy voice. What did he say?"

"He said he would be seeing me soon. He said I couldn't hide in the building forever. Then he laughed and played the tape of Tony getting whacked."

"Someone could be pulling your chain. We have no reason to believe that wasn't Les on that boat with his family. The harbor master confirmed the pair took their daughters out yesterday for a day cruise. Everything looked normal to him. He identified Les. They went to high school together."

"Well, Someone was in the park watching the Rangeman building." Hal said. "Stephanie saw them and called it down to us. We went and checked it out. Found this."

Hal pulled a ziplock bag out of his pocket. Inside the bag was the picture he told me about. It had been ripped up into tiny little pieces. I could see something had been written on back of the picture, but I couldn't tell what it was. My stomach didn't feel all that well anymore.

Joe took the bag from Hal and looked at it. "I'll bring this in and have it put back together. Just to be safe, What did this guy look like?"

"The guy looked like Les Sebring, but his hair was dyed brown."

"What was he wearing?"

"A brown bomber jacket and black pants. He was wearing aviator glasses, so I couldn't get real good look at his face."

"This could just be a sick joke, Stephanie."

"You think so?"

Joe looked over at the boat. "I don't know. You have a habit of pissing people off. It could be any one of your admirers."

We watched as what was left of the boat was tied to the railing, and the tug boat pushed off.

I really hadn't considered the possibility that it wasn't Les outside my window. One crazy person after me at a time was about all I could handle.

"So, how come no one is wearing all the protective gear you always see on CSI?" I asked.

Joe looked back at me. "For one thing, this is real life. Not only that, this isn't the crime scene. The boat is. When they go near it, they will need to wear protection. The boat was out about 20 knots. It was anchored when it exploded."

"So now you think it exploded?"

"We have eyewitnesses. They heard it. Said it sounded like a bomb. They didn't call it in right away. They weren't exactly sober, and they were fishing off the docks. The harbor master frowns on both of those things."

The boat knocked against the dock, scraping soot onto the wood. It looked gutted. I remembered the picture of what the boat had looked like. It was unrecognizable now. I dug the picture out of my bag. It had been safely tucked into my pocketbook since I borrowed it from Les Sebring's office. I tried to compare it to the boat in front of me. "Whatever the Sea Brings" was a yacht. I couldn't say how big it was from the picture, but this boat looked a lot smaller. In the photo I had, I could see some of the registration numbers. The end numbers in the picture were JX951. The registration numbers on this boat were NJXL5 17241. It was possible that he had re-registered the boat, sold the boat for this one, or transferred title and had to change the numbers.

"How many boats are registered to Sebring?" I asked Joe.

"We only found this one."

"Can you find out if he had another boat?"

"He doesn't, at least not in his name. "What Ever The Sea Brings" is the only boat that is registered to him. Why?"

I showed Joe the picture. "Does this look like the same boat?"

He took the picture from me. "Where did you get this?"

Clearly, he was missing the point. "I borrowed it. Just look at it and tell me what you think."

Joe studied the picture and then what was left of the boat in front of us.

"It looks like a different boat. Same name." Joe sounded irritated. "Where did this come from?"

"I already told you. I borrowed it."

"From who?" Joe was now in cop mode. Arms crossed in front of him, his eyes were piercing black orbs, digging into mine.

"From Les Sebring." That was correct. I did borrow it. I didn't tell him where I found it, or that I found it underneath a family picture on Les Sebring's desk. I had a feeling Joe would think that was stealing. I was going to give it back. Eventually.

"How come you never showed me this picture?"

"It wasn't important at the time."

I could tell that Joe was trying to get a grip. Clearly I had caught him off guard.

"Anything else you can think of that you held back from the investigation?"

"No." Maybe.

He took the picture and walked closer to the boat. "I am not an expert when It comes to photo identification, but the boat we have looks smaller. Maybe he sold the one in the picture." Joe studied the picture closer. "Who is that with Les?"

"It's Jeanne Ellen." I said.

Joe scratched the stubble that was now more prevalent on his face. It had to have been over twelve hours since he had been home. His five o'clock shadow had doubled. I knew that I was testing what was left of his patience. Joe cleared his throat. This is never a good sign.

"How long have you had this?"

I shrugged. "A while. I guess?"

"So, you knew he was having an affair Jeanne before you heard the tapes?"

"We were leaning in that direction, yes."

"But you decided not to tell me about it?"

"I didn't think you would be all that happy about how we came to that conclusion in the first place."

I was dancing on the head of a pin, and probably digging a deeper hole. I just couldn't seem to stop myself.

"So, Is there more your not telling me?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Joe said. I saw his eyes dilate. I took a step back.

"I'm keeping the picture." He said.

"Where are you going to say it came from?"

"Anonymous source."

I tried to change the subject. I knew he was pissed, but I had come down here for another reason. "What about Ranger?"

Joe searched my eyes and then looked down and sighed.

"What about him?"

"How come he hasn't been released?"

"I cant talk about that."

"What?"

"You need to talk to his lawyer, Stephanie."

I didn't like the sound of that.

We all turned as the water was shut off. The boat was now cool enough to board. I suppose within a few hours they will be able to take what is left off the boat and get the bodies over to the lab for autopsy. From the looks of it, I am not sure if they will get more than ash.

"Do you still think that Les Sebring died in that explosion?"

Joe looked back at the boat. Trisha and the rest of the forensic unit was dressed in medical garb and climbing on board the charred remains of Les Sebring's so called boat.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The office was on the fifth floor of The Weilwood Building. It sat smack dab in the middle of the financial district not far from Dickey Orr's most recent establishment. Weilwood was modern with white walls & black marble floors, Amish made oak tables next to dark burgundy leather couches and comfortable chairs. Recessed lighting gave the interior ambiance, a feeling of calm control. However I did not feel calm or controlled when Hal and I stepped into Michael Rosewall's office.

We didn't wait to be invited in, and didn't see the need to wait our turn. We walked in with his secretary on our heels, screaming "You need to have an appointment!"

Rangeman was spending an enormous amount of money to have Rosewall on call. Yet, he was not on call. He was not doing his job, and I was getting tired of his excuses. We went to see him expecting answers.

What I didn't expect was Tank. Both Hal and I stopped in our tracks.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Tank got to his feet. "Probably the same thing as you. To find out what the hell is going on."

Rosewall slouched in his chair. His hands folded. Two body guards stood flanking him. Guns under suit jackets, arms casually slid inside. Fingers most likely on the triggers of Glocks.

"Click." I heard the sound of a Sig, like mine.

They were big men. Not at all like the ones that came through our office the day we hired Michael. The light from the florescence bounced off their shiny domed heads, accenting the bad ass bodyguard image. They dressed alike, they looked alike. They were twins, I could swear it. Michael opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of generic antacids. He popped the top and poured three of them into his palm and knocked them back, chewing.

"Stephanie, Hal. Please sit."

Hal didn't move. Either did I. "I'll stand, thanks."

Rosewall shrugged. "Your call. We are waiting on one more person. It might take a few minutes. Coffee? Some water?"

Rosewall looked at all three of us. We were silent.

He proceeded to open a file folder and begin writing notes. He seemed calm. The men beside him stood at attention. They hadn't moved.

"You knew we were coming?" I asked, cautiously.

"Not really. Not yet. I got a call saying it was possible. Big guy here, he was a surprise. I thought he was busy running Rangeman. You, Stephanie. I knew it would be today, at some point that I would have to talk to you. I was told that you were impossible to hold back. Of course, I thought this would be over by now. But, things change. His voice trailed off as he wrote.

"Who are we waiting for?" I asked.

Rosewall did not look up. He continued his busy work. "Patience." He replied.

I thought to myself, I may only be part Italian, but that part Italian was pretty strong. I could not be sure if Rosewall was a good guy or a bad guy. I didn't particularly like the word "patience". I know its a virtue, but I don't think the Plum side of the family had a lot of moral fiber, I mean look at Vincent. I glanced at one of the body guards. He was watching me closely. Would he really shoot me if I walked over and tossed Michael's papers all over the floor? Both men tightened their grip on the guns. Rosewall looked up, and stared directly at Tank saying...

"They have their guns chambered. You want to make a move? They aren't blanks."

Tank leaned forward. He glared at Rosewall. "Don't even think about threatening me. You want a nightmare, you will get one if you fuck with this team. Don't screw with us. You have been out of touch for over two days. When we call, your secretary tells us you are in court. I came over to wait in your office, and guess what? Your not in court. You are sitting with your thumb up your ass. If you can't handle this case, we will find someone who can. Do not think for a second that I am going to sit around while my boss rots in jail because you cannot do your job."

Tank moved so quickly, I barely had enough time for it to register. He pulled out a knife and stabbed it into Rosewall's perfect cherry wood desk. He leaned over, his face less than an inch from Michael's. One bodyguard had been overtaken by Hal, the other was still trying to pull the gun out of his holster.

Michael's secretary ran in. "Is everything oka...?" She paused. Hal had one gun trained on her, the other was still in the face of the first body guard. I was trying hard to figure out how to breathe.

The phone was ringing in the outer office. No one was moving to pick it up. We were all at a standstill. I heard the elevator door shut somewhere off in the distance. The office was silent. No one wanted to make a wrong move.

Just then, Joe walked in the office. We all turned to look at him. He didn't even flinch when he saw the situation that was played out in front of him. "Tank, Hal. Good to see you again. Why doesn't everyone just calm down and have a seat. If anyone shoots anyone else, I am going to have more paperwork to fill out. It would be nice if I could avoid that right now. He stood and waited. Tank backed away and removed his knife from the table. Hal lowered both his weapons and slowly moved away from the body guard. The secretary ran out of the room to answer her ringing phone.

Michael adjusted his suit and tie. The bodyguards both shifted uneasily. They threw angry glances at Hal and Tank as they tried to remain stoic. They screwed up. Not being prepared for Tank's aggressive actions will cost them a bonus.

"I told you this was a bad idea." Joe said, as he tossed a manila folder across the table.

Michael opened it, glancing at the papers inside. "It wasn't my call, and you know that."

I looked over at Tank. It seemed I wasn't the only one in the dark.

Tank took a deep breath and sat down. "Anyone care to elaborate?"

Michael leaned back in his chair, closing the file. He looked at his gold Rolex and adjusted it on his wrist. "Forty eight hours ago, Mr. Manoso was released from police custody."

He let that sit for a moment before going on. "At his request, he put a veil over the release in hopes that Les Sebring would come out of hiding and do something stupid. Then, the police would have a chance to pick him up. It had to look like the cops had reason to keep him. He was sure that Les was watching and waiting to see what would happen once we had the tapes. It had to be believable. No one could know."

"That's why there has been nothing on the news." I said.

Michael nodded.

Joe continued. "He set up a meeting with the chief of police, Joe said. Asking that we keep it under wraps for at least seventy two hours. He said that if Sebring was in Jersey, he would find him. I knew that if he listened to the tapes, any of the tapes, he would probably be on the next plane of south America.

Ranger wanted to try it anyway. Problem was, I didn't tell my boss that Ranger was out for revenge. I kept that little gem to myself, and now I feel like an idiot. With Les and his family blown to smithereens, who do you think is going to be looked at for causing that?"

"Ranger." I said softly. I looked down. I had not even considered the possibility Ranger had killed them.

"Trisha found this on the boat." Joe took a plastic evidence bag out of his jacket, handing it to me. Inside was a piece of black hard cloth. It was burnt and the ends were seared. White embroidery threads made out the letters "Op".

Joe's phone chirped. He took it out of his pocket and checked it. "I can guarantee my head will be on a platter unless I can find Ranger and get this thing figured out." Joe headed towards the door. "If you see him, one of you better let me know. He has some explaining to do."

I sat down and looked over at Michael. "What is in that file?"

"Carlos Manoso's release papers."

Tank set up a meeting for his team on the third floor. I was sick to my stomach. I didn't want to be part of it. I didn't want to be part of any of it. I felt deflated and kind of lost. I needed to regroup. Most of the sick feeling had to be coming from my clothes. They smelled of chemicals, smoke, diesel fuel and charred remains. My hair was worse. I dragged myself to Ranger's apartment to clear my head.

The moment I closed the door, I knew. I wasn't alone. Fear gripped me. It wasn't just the way the air changed or that things in the apartment were slightly off key. It was the shower. It was on.

I wasn't sure what I should do. I looked back at the door. Should I run downstairs? Why was I afraid? Was it because Hal and Tank flew from calm to killer in 2.5 seconds or because I had burnt carcass smoke in my hair? The thought that Ranger could have caused that explosion gave me chills.

My keys were two steps to the right for my fingers to grasp them. The door, five paces to the handle. The stairs were another twenty from the front door. Twenty-five steps per staircase. Two for each floor, times seven floors. Fourteen sections of twenty five steps till I was at the bottom floor of the building. After that, I would need a calculator.

"Two hundred paces to your Jeep, babe." Ranger was behind me. I was so busy counting, I didn't see him. His fingers brushed the top of my skirt. "If you want to run, go. I won't stop you."

"Oh shit," I thought as seconds ticked by. I could feel him standing there. Heat radiated from his body. His touch stayed light on my skin.

Did I have faith? Or did I believe he murdered Les and his family? If he did, what then?

Time stood still. I couldn't move.

Ranger's fingers slid under the waistband of my skirt, giving me goose bumps. His lips brushed against my earlobe. "If your going to run, you better do it now." My breath caught in my throat.

I grew up in the church. My mother and grandmother dragged my sister and I to Holy Mother of Mercy not only on Sunday, but also to every church function within driving distance. It was tradition. On Sunday, my family lived and breathed Catholic. I figure they did this because they knew the rest of the week we would be breaking the rules. Sunday was redemption. I had to practice all the commandments until I knew them by heart. I tried hard to stay within the boundaries of ones that made the most sense to me. "Thou Shall Not Kill" was the big one. Over the years, I have been known to walk over most of those ten, including "Thou Shall Not Take The Lord's Name In Vain." I think I have done an okay job keeping the commandments sacred. I am not innocent of even the big one, but I

do think that God should be okay with self defense. Deep in my subconscious brewed the morals of a true believer. Right now, it was coming to the surface with a vengeance. Where did it come from? I couldn't shut up my inner Mother Teresa, no matter how I tried.

"Well?" Ranger whispered.

"Did you blow up Sebring's boat?" I winced. It didn't sound like I had any faith in him what so ever, but I had to know, so I asked.

He let go of my skirt and walked slowly into the bedroom. "Do you think I did?"

He was now far enough away. I could run. He probably wouldn't even follow me. Just take off, Stephanie! My feet were glued to the floor, I couldn't move. I still hadn't totally made up my mind.

Moments ticked by. I still stood there. Ranger walked back out of his room. He leaned on the door frame. He was not dressed. Only a towel was wrapped around his perfect hips. It hid all his perfect parts behind a towel not more than a fourth of an inch thick. I could focus on being afraid of what his answer would be to my question, or I could focus on the towel. The towel won.

"Stephanie?"

My eyes tore away from the towel and locked onto his.

He had been waiting for my answer.

"I'm not sure."

He gave a heavy lidded nod and walked towards me. He took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly.

I found myself reaching to touch his skin. The towel dropped from his waist. It was then, I noticed that he had cuts and bruises all over his chest and arms. I moved my finger over a gash that looked painful.

I looked up at him. He was watching me.

"What happened to you?"

His voice was low. He focused on the buttons of my blouse, as his fingers unbuttoned each one until it lay open. "Later." He said, slipping his hand under the waistband of my skirt, sliding the zipper down until it gave way and fell to the floor. The only thing between us was a silk black camisole and black lace panties. My heart beat faster as he kissed the nape of my neck. Suddenly, Ranger pulled away from me.

"You smell like charred flesh."

There was a lot of sexy terms he could have whispered to me, but that was not one of them. I had sort of forgotten about Mother Teresa, the boat and the burnt stuff. He had a way of making morals seem pointless. Ranger grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bathroom. He pushed me in and shut the door. Leaving me to my own devices.

I emerged from the steamy shower with a better attitude. My hair smelled like lavender and almonds according to the label on the shampoo. It was a hundred times better than it had been, so I was sold. I stood in the doorway to the bedroom. I towel dried my hair into a damp mass of brown curls. Now I was the one standing in the towel and Ranger was dressed. All black, no surprise there. Cargo pants, t shirt, belt. Black. Game over.

He sat at his desk. The laptop open before him, the light from the screen shining on his face. His black hair was still slightly wet, and it hung just onto his forehead. A little longer than he usually wore it. I watched him work. I noticed that he didn't have on shoes or socks, as if he wasn't sure if he was staying or going.

He looked up from the computer. "Did you know Les had a boat?"

"Yeah." I said. "Your whole team knew."

Ranger glanced back at the screen. "What Ever The Sea Brings"

"There are two of them, at least there was two of them. The one that exploded is a different boat than the one we saw in a picture on Sebring's desk."

Ranger contemplated "Same name, different boat."

I studied him as he worked. The shower had given me some time to regroup, but I couldn't get the facts out of my head. The piece of black cloth with the partial "OP" really bugged me. A lot was eating at me. Maybe the forty eight hours without telling anyone where he was, bothered me the most. Going after Les without his team bothered me. He didn't even have all the information we did. He went off half cocked and I began to realize I was pissed about it.

He watched me silently, closing the laptop. Ranger got up and walked over to me.

"You're never this quiet. Usually you are full of theory and explanations."

"I have a lot on my mind." I answered quietly.

He tilted his head to one side, his piercing black eyes dug into mine, like he could sort out my thoughts and put them all on paper in front of me. I stared at him, and he stared right back.

Ranger moved closer. "You think I rigged that boat to blow?" he said incredulously.

I had been knocking a few scenarios around in my brain. Was he capable? Yes. Should I tell him that? Probably not.

He watched me squirm.

"Maybe?" I finally blurted out.

Ranger moved in closer. He looked slightly perturbed. I backed up, but I hit the wall. I had no where to go.

"Why would I do that, Stephanie?"

"You wanted revenge for Jeanne." I stuttered. "You completely took your whole team out of the equation. Shut us all down. Told Joe to keep your release quiet. Giving you the perfect opportunity to find Les and kill him."

Ranger backed up a little, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is this what everyone thinks? That I put a bomb on the boat, and then blew it up killing his wife and two kids?"

He edged closer to me leaning in. "Is that really what you think?"

I watched his eyes, his face, his body language. I thought back to when I first saw him in the apartment. He was relaxed. I had known Ranger for a long time.

I took a deep breath. "No. It's not what I think."

He searched my eyes. Deep down I already knew he didn't hurt those people. Just Les, Maybe. But not his kids, not his wife.

He pulled back, and put his arms on either side of me."What makes you so sure?"

"I can tell." I said defiantly. "Your eyes. They give you away."

He glanced down at the towel. "You use to be more intimidated by me."

"I know you better now." I said. I was still angry that he had gone out on his own without letting his team know what was going on.

Ranger moved closer. His hips pressed against the terry cloth barrier. I held the towel tighter. He smiled. His hand slipped under my towel and tugged. It fell away. I had no self control. I was trying to hold onto being pissed that he left us out of the loop, but the canvas of his cargo pants was up against my bare skin, and I felt him stir. I felt my toes curl in anticipation.

He leaned in closer. "You were afraid of me when you walked in my apartment. What about now, do you still think I'm dangerous?" His finger caressed my nipple sending shivers down my spine. I had to catch my breath. My whole body started to buzz.

I nodded "yes"

Ranger smiled, "Oh yeah, I am a dangerous man." He picked me up and carried me into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The ceiling fan rotated as it lazily cut the air above us. Slowly my heartbeat returned to normal. The pace of my breath slowed. Ranger lay next to me, his hair damp with sweat. He gathered me close, kissing me softly, still holding onto my hand. His grip held strong from the final moments of his surrender. In the darkness, the blue iridescent digital clock read 3:15 am. My head rested on his chest. I focused on his pulse. My eyelids already heavy, the anticipation of sleep taking over. I could feel my body calming down. I was satisfied, relaxed.

Ranger drew spirals on my skin, hypnotizing me with his touch."I need to set up a meeting with Morelli." Ranger stated quietly."How early can you call him?"

My eyes opened a little wider. If Ranger was going to tell anyone what happened, I wanted to be there. Joe's work schedule was not something I kept track of anymore. I didn't even know if he was working vice or homicide. My cards were on vice. He didn't like to dress in a suit, and homicide demanded it. Shifts fluctuated. He hadn't looked washed out or tired when we last spoke. I thought it was safe to say he was working normal hours. "I think if I call him after seven, he won't hang up on me." I said. "He wants to talk to you anyway. He told me to call if I saw you." Two birds, one stone. I thought to myself.

Ranger looked over. "He said that?"

"Trisha found a black piece of cloth on the boat. It looked like "Op" was embroidered into it. A lot like your "Special Ops" cap. He might be thinking the same thing."

Ranger growled. "Shit, I liked that hat." he paused. "That makes it even more important that I talk to Morelli. I want to know what he is going to do. If the cops have my hat, then they already consider me a suspect. I don't want to wait for lab results to tell them Les Sebring wasn't on the boat when it exploded."

I sat up on my elbows. "Les Sebring wasn't on the boat?"

"No." Ranger said, with a shake of his head.

"Then who was?" I asked, perplexedly.

"I'm guessing Sebring's family. Wife, two kids and a man dressed like Sebring. Tall, gray hair, mid sixties."

"Geez. You saw them alive?" I asked.

"I never said they were alive, babe."

I considered that for a moment. "Are you sure they were dead?"

"Unless they were vampires." Ranger stated unhappily.

"How did you end up on his boat?" I sat up, completely awake. I was a little more than just curious as to what happened. I needed to know if Les was still alive.

"I was staking out Sebring's wife's house." Ranger started. "I had a feeling he would go there. When the garage door went up at 4am, I figured it had to be him. A silver BMW drove out slowly. Sebring was at the wheel. I followed him to Bay Cove Harbor. He was in a hurry. I watched him scurry towards the boat slips, and use a keycard to open the gate. If I was going to follow him, I had to go into the water. I had no choice. He headed towards a large yacht. I was able to climb onto the swim platform. The moment my boots were out of the water, he started the engines. All I could do was hold on and hope for the best."

"You were just on the platform?" I was listening intently, wondering if I would ever be brave enough to do something like that.

"I've traveled in worse places."

"Your lucky he didn't see you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it. I think he only had one thing on his mind, and that was getting that boat out of there, quick. Plus, you can't see the platform from where he sat. As soon as he cleared the harbor, the throttle was down. I wasn't exactly prepared to go for a ride."

"Joe said they found the boat about 20 knots out." I told him.

"It seemed like he drove for hours, but I think it was because it wasn't all that easy to hold on. Everything was slippery. The boat was moving fast enough for me to rethink where I was stationed. I was about to climb further into the boat when he started slowing down. I went back into position and waited. The engines shut off and we were drifting. I heard the anchor drop, so I went back into the water.

"What were you going to do?" I asked him.

Ranger paused, watching me. What I want,and what I do are usually different. I wanted to kill him. Doesn't mean it would have played out that way. It didn't matter, I never got the chance to decide one way or the other. He dropped into a small boat I hadn't seen. It was tucked under the yacht. He was on it and away before I could do anything."

After he left, you got back on the yacht?

"I didn't have much of a choice. I climbed onto the boat, and did a quick search. I knew something was wrong. No one just abandons a vessel. The bodies were in the second stateroom. I checked them quickly to see if they were alive. My cellphone was dead. I went to find the radio. That is when I spotted the bomb. I jumped off the boat seconds before It went off."

I felt my heart flutter. It almost dropped out of my chest and did little flip flops on the sheets.

"Are you okay?" Ranger's voice was full of concern.

I shook my head. "No. I am not okay. You could have been killed."

"Your not going to get all emotional are you?" He picked my chin up and made me look at him. "I'm alright." Ranger said, smiling.

"You shouldn't have gone alone. We could have helped."

"Stephanie, I have never done it any other way."

"Well, I don't like it."

Ranger's mouth tugged at a smile. "Babe, I can't say that will change."

I rolled my eyes. "Finish the story. What happened after the boat exploded?"

It wasn't that I didn't realize who Ranger was. I knew how he worked. I respected him for it. What I didn't expect was my reaction to what he told me. I couldn't imagine life without him. That was the scariest feeling of all.

"Not a lot more to tell." Ranger started. "There were two more explosions after the first. Probably another bomb near the fuel tanks. By the time the Coast Guard arrived, the boat was engulfed in flames."

"What kind of a bomb would it take to make a boat burn like that?" I asked.

"Once fiberglass starts to burn, It moves fast and hot. You do not want to be anywhere near it. The chemicals coming from the smoke can cause your lungs to contract, making it impossible to breathe. Two pipe bombs, full fuel tanks, and maybe a couple full gas cans, and you can pretty much guarantee fiberglass will burn. It's not the glass, but the compound that holds it together that actually burns."

"How did you get back to shore?"

"I hitched a ride with the Coast Guard. They kind of picked me up, more or less."

"Why would Les kill his family?" I asked.

"Same reason he killed the man I found with them. To make it look like Les died being the true family man. Taking the family out on a cruise, then tragedy strikes. Everyone would call him a wonderful husband and father, no one would believe he was capable of killing Jeanne."

"Was his reputation really worth killing his family?"

"Sometimes people do things that don't make a lot of sense." Ranger said. "What ever the reason, It was a good way to make everyone believe he was dead. If I wouldn't have been on that boat, He would have gotten away with it, at least until they could ID the body. Good way to start over, or at least buy him some time to get away."

"It would have given him some time." I said. I was now even more concerned with my stalker. "When you saw Les, What color was his hair?" I already knew what his answer would be, I just needed to hear It out loud.

"Brown. Dark brown. I think he dyed it."

I leaned back against the headboard. "I was right. That was him."

Ranger's eyebrows went up. "You saw him?"

"Yesterday. Right before they brought the boat in."


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

Joe walked in RangeMan alone, as promised. I watched him as he came up to the front of the building, and I buzzed him in. Joe was working the homicide table. He got the job without wearing the suit. He was the Morelli family's good apple on a tree of mixed fruit.

John Sexton stood next to me at the security desk. He was a temporary transfer from the Atlanta office. John was all business. He had come in a few days before. His shoes were military, his clothes were pressed. He was clean shaven no matter what time of the day it was. He had dark hair cut to a one, and dark eyes that said very little. He even stood up straight. Tank told me he only spoke in one word sentences. John reminded me of a walking cyborg. He had Joe fill out a paper on a clipboard, and handed him a visitor tag.

"This is new." Joe said, clasping the alligator clip onto his shirt.

"They do it different in Atlanta." I said. "Just go with it. When they get the new team in, it will probably go back to the way it was." I told John "thank you", and I got the nod response. I pressed the button on the elevator taking us up to three.

"What happened to the team that was here before?" Joe asked.

"Tank let them go. Too many coincidences."

"Wasn't Jeremy Canon heading?"

I nodded, "Yes."

"He is a nice kid." Joe stated.

"I liked him, too, but if you go with statistics, his team was off the chart with problems. We thought it would be better to replace everyone."

Joe was silent. "We?"

"What?" I said, not understanding.

"You said, "We thought it would be better to replace everyone." Not "They" had to replace everyone.

"So?" I said.

"So, you are working here now?" There was a tinge of irritation in his voice that I pretended not to notice.

"No- maybe." I cracked my knuckles.

Joe raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure what I want to do, but the offer is on the table."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I suppose it would be a step up from Vinnie's Bonds. Might not be safer, but it's a step up."

"Yeah, well just 'cause the offer is out there,doesn't mean I will take it. At Vin's I work for myself. Here, I would be working for Ranger. It would be...weird."

The doors slid open. The third floor is the brain of RangeMan. It is one gigantic long room. The elevator opens to the middle of it. It was not very secure for a business like this, but when this was a casino, It was perfect.

"It always comes back to that, doesn't it? You hate it when other people tell you what to do." Joe said sarcastically.

I squinted my eyes at him. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"Nothing." Joe said, as we stepped into the conference room together.

Joe had his phone recorder on the table and his notepad in front of him. He was busy writing out what Ranger had told him about the boat.

"Are you sure it was Les Sebring's family you saw?" Joe asked. His pen poised, waiting.

"No. It is an assumption. I have never met his family. The woman was probably in her forties, the two girls were young teens. Maybe 12 and 14." Ranger stated.

Joe opened the file folder that was in front of him. He thumbed through a few pages, then slipped an 8×10 color picture out of the thin stack and slid it across the table towards Ranger. It was a portrait. The kind everyone gets at least once in their lifetime. The picture was of Les and his family. The background suggested it was winter. "Christmas at the Sebring's." Was printed in gold lettering across the bottom. In the picture, Les and his wife were standing. The two girls were sitting on a green painted bench. Snow was on the ground and in the surrounding bushes and trees. In the background was a blurred image of a horse and sleigh. The whole thing obviously done in a studio. It was a nice picture of what looked to be a happy family.

"Are these the people you found on the boat?" Joe asked.

Ranger studied the picture for a moment. "Yes. The girls were older." He studied the image once more before handing it back.

"What about the man you saw?"

"He was in his sixties. Gray hair. 6'2 or 6'3. He had on gray slacks and a collared white shirt. Looked like he could have been working upper class."

"He might have been dressed to look that way." Joe remarked.

"His hands were soft. Manicured. He was white collar. I would check with missing persons if I were you." Ranger explained.

"From what you saw, how were they killed? If you can remember anything, it might be helpful."

Ranger leaned forward. He studied Joe for a moment. "Les Sebring's wife was strangled. I can't tell you if she was raped before of after, but it happened. It was rough, and there was a lot of blood. I would be guessing, but I think she was killed during the act. If you need more than that, I can make a formal statement privately with a forensics team."

Joe glanced at me for a moment. "What about the two daughters, Kylie And Jenna?" He asked cautiously.

"Nothing that I could see. I don't think they were violated if that is what you mean, but I didn't spend a lot of time checking. I was looking for a pulse, then moved to the next." Ranger answered.

"And the man?" Joe asked.

"He was beat up. His neck might have been broken." Ranger said.

Joe flipped a page in his notebook. "Tell me about the bomb."

"It was a pipe bomb. I couldn't see it very well, It was cylindrical, 4 pieces of pipe wrapped with what looked like electrical tape. gray metal. I was focused on the timer. It was digital. I knew it was real. I ran up the stairs and jumped off the boat. It exploded before I hit the water."

"Where was it located?"

"Under the captain's chair. I think there was more than one. Two more explosions went off after. One near the back of the boat, and another close to that one. Maybe one was a bomb, one could have been the gas tanks. They sounded different."

Joe finished his notes. "Jones and Foster are the leads on this case. They will want to hear what you have to say. I'm sure they will have more questions. I was brought in to consult, but I am not suppose to get too involved. The district attorney's office made that very clear."

Joe Paused. I could tell by the look on his face he was unhappy that it wasn't his case, and that Ranger was involved again.

Detective Jones is a good cop. He is thorough. Foster is his side kick. Whatever Jones does, Foster follows along like a puppy dog. He is a descent detective, but he doesn't like to lead. Jones had high hopes for the part of cloth they found. It is not going to be easy to convince them that you were not involved." He picked up the notepad. "This will help, but until you come in to give your statement, they won't take it seriously. If this was my case, you would be at the top of a very short suspect list."

Ranger slouched in his chair. It was obvious he was unhappy with that statement. His dark eyes turned serious. "If I come in to give them a statement, can you guarantee they won't hold me?"

"At this point, I can't guarantee my socks match."

"I need to be out looking for Sebring." Ranger snapped.

"No, the cops need to be out looking for Sebring. Right now, everyone thinks Sebring is dead. You are the key witness. You have to come in and give a formal statement. You need to explain why your hat was on that boat. They will issue a warrant once they get the results from the cloth."

"I will come in for questioning when I can be sure that I can walk out of there. I gave you everything I know. They can work with that."

Joe shook his head. "You know that's not how it works. They get something off that hat, they will come looking for you."

They would need to catch me first." Ranger mumbled.

Joe smiled, leaning forward. "I can catch you."

Ranger nodded, cautiously watching him.

"You know I didn't kill those people, Morelli." Ranger said, quietly.

"I still would have a civil duty to bring you in, if a warrant was issued." Joe stated.

"Then don't let that happen." Ranger demanded. He was not going to back down. I really couldn't blame him. I mean, the last thing I would want is to go back to jail again for something I didn't do.

Joe leaned back in the chair. He tapped his pen on the table as he stared down at his notes. Finally he took a deep breath. "The problem is this. Who is going to collaborate your story? We talked about this when I released you. You go out on your own, something happens, No one is going to have your back. I know your not stupid, so I am not even going to ask you if you remember that conversation. You were suppose to contact me if you saw him... You didn't. If you would have, I could have at least been able to back up your story, and the Coast Guard would have known to look for Sebring when he headed for shore . The lone wolf routine was a mistake. It's not going to be easy to convince Jones or Foster that you are just an asshole and not the killer."

Ranger and Joe were at a standstill. I had to do something. It was all Mano a Mano in the room. My hair was frizzing with all the electricity in the air. I thought at any moment Ranger would body slam Joe right into the partition wall. I had never heard anyone tell Ranger off. I had done it a few times, but I thought being a girl may have given me the advantage. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. I had to say something quick before they started throwing fireballs at each other. I cleared my throat. "What is happening with the bodies. Any positive ID matches yet?"

"No." Joe said, taking his focus off Ranger. "Not yet, it is slow going. The bodies are in bad shape. Especially the male. He was almost dust. But I think you should be more concerned with your new stalker pal than anything else."

Shit. I had momentarily forgotten about that, and talking about it was going to make it all the more scary.

Ranger slid his eyes in my direction. "Are you sure that the man you saw was Les Sebring?" Ranger asked.

Right at this moment, I wanted nothing more than to be wrong. "It looked like him, the only thing that threw me off was his hair. Dark brown instead of gray." Maybe it was just some random person checking out the dark and ominous building across from the park.

"When I saw him, his hair was dyed dark brown." Ranger said to Joe.

"Tell me again what you saw." Joe said. "I need to get this down."

I thought back to what I had seen, trying hard to remember even the smallest details but at the same time making it sound like I could have been completely wrong. Inside, I knew it was Les. Outside, I didn't want to it to be true. "He was standing next to the biggest tree along the sidewalk across from the building. He was looking straight up at the seventh floor. He was tall. It looked like Les Sebring with dark hair. That is why I called Tank."

"That could have been anyone, Babe." Ranger said.

"Except Stephanie told me she had also received a threatening phone call." Joe stated.

Rangers eyebrows went up, I saw concern flash over his face. "You never told me about a call."

"I told Tank." I said, backpeddling. "He sent Hal and Les to the park to check it out. They didn't see anyone. All they found a ripped up picture of me with writing on it." I threw that out there with a shrug. No big deal. A picture of me torn up is old news. Lots of people have that happen, right? I was beginning to worry that I was going to be the one who would be locked up if I wasn't careful.

"I sent it to the lab." Joe said. "I haven't gotten anything back yet, but the timing is right. You need to be careful." Joe said to me.

I had both of them looking at me like I should be locked away in a vault until they could figure out what was happening. That was not going to happen. I didn't do well in confined quarters. I literally climbed the walls.

"Why would Les Sebring go through all the trouble of blowing up the boat to make it look like he was dead only to come back and taunt me?" Maybe the picture of me was just a coincidence. Maybe it was a random stalker. I had lots of those. It didn't mean Les Sebring was around.

"It's possible leaving isn't his goal." Ranger stated. "Maybe he wants to be a ghost."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"Could be that this entire operation, the boat and the bodies was to make the police believe he was dead, then he could move around without anyone looking for him. Maybe you were the target from the beginning."

Say what? "Why me?"

"Maybe he blames you for ruining his plans. Think about it, he had everything planned out perfect. Retiring, divorcing his wife, and floating away with Jeanne Ellen to start a new life. He then you come back into town and everything falls apart. Jeanne starts acting strange, and he gets suspicious, and things go into a downward spiral. Clearly he has lost his noodle. But It is possible he thinks you are the cause of his downfall. As much as it is not true, he could still think it is your fault." Ranger said.

"Great. Les blames me for not getting his happily ever after. That is fantastic. So what happens now?"

"Next, I take this information back to the station." Joe looked over at Ranger. "Bring Rosewall with you if you need to, just come in and give them a statement. Everyone needs to stay on the same page if we are going to catch him before he does anything else."

"I want to look for the second boat." I said to Joe. He might be staying on it.

"The boat could be a dead end. It was probably sold years ago." Joe said.

"Look for it." I said. "I think that boat meant something."

Joe gathered the file together and headed for the door. "I will see what I can find on the boat. Be careful with her, Carlos."

Ranger nodded. "I got that covered."

I walked Joe to the elevator. He hit the button and turned to look at me. "You are going to be cautious, right?"

"Yes. I promise."

He smiled, stepping into the elevator, and hitting the button for the first floor. "Make him come in today. We need that information."

Ranger was still in his office. I grabbed a cup of coffee and went in. His desk was littered with files from the raid from Sebring's office. I sat on the edge of his oak desk and watched him shuffle through them.

"Do you still believe that I was wrong to leave you and the team out of the loop?" Ranger asked.

He was reading the very direct file on himself that Jeanne had written. It was difficult to read mine, I could only imagine what it would be like to read his own.

I weighed the question before I spoke. "You have a group of people who are not only your friends, but they work for you, they are loyal. You should have trusted them. You should have trusted me."

"Now on, you stay in the loop." He said, watching me. "No secrets."

I nodded. "Okay, no secrets."

"So, Since we are doing the "no secrets" thing, are you going to go in and give your statement to the cops?"

"Yeah. But I am bringing in Rosewall."

"Do you think they really will arrest you?"

"No. But I wanted to see if Morelli thought they would. I know Foster. He acts like a lapdog, but he has a high success rate for solving crimes. He knows a lot of the same players as I do. I think he will believe my story, but I will remain a suspect."

Ranger eyes studied me, I could feel the cogs of his complicated brain turning. "Have you thought about what we discussed before this mess happened?"

"About what?" We had discussed a lot of different things before Jeanne was killed. I didn't want to jump to any natural conclusions.

"About RangeMan. Working here. Working with me."

I plopped down in the chair across from him. Joe had a point, I couldn't imagine Ranger being my employer, telling me what to do. I hated that shit.

"I don't know about you being my boss. How would that work?"

"As fun as that sounds," Ranger said smiling, "you would be my partner, not my employee."

I crossed my arms, leaning back in the chair. "Partner? Tank should be your partner."

"Tank is my partner, Stephanie. So is Hal. The rest of the team are employees. Eventually, if they want to step up and become partners, the ball is in their court. Right now, they chose to be what they are. No strings attached. They want it that way."

"So partners have strings attached?" I asked, flirting. Ranger mentioning strings was new. I wanted to take advantage of it.

Ranger leaned back in his chair. He were like two gunfighters, neither ready to draw. He was holding his gold Cross pen, his fingers flipping it back and forth, his dark eyes focused on mine.

He gave me a sliver of a smile. "Partners have strings." Ranger said.

"Hum," I said. "So what kind of benefits would come with this merger?"

His eyes dilated. He slowly got up out of his chair and went over to the windows and drew the blinds.

Ranger was in the middle of telling me all about mergers and acquisitions when my car alarm went off.

He lifted his head up and reached across the desk, and grabbed his cell and dialed.

"who's ever car that is, don't let anyone go near it." He said, quickly.

He went rigid. "John? You need to tell him to stay away from it."

An explosion shook the building. Ranger dropped to the floor rolling me with him under the desk.

"Talk to me." He screamed in the phone.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

We took the stairs. Ranger's phone to his ear trying repeatedly to reach the security desk. No one was answering. A second explosion hit. Ranger dove to the ground, pulling me with him. "That sounded like a grenade." He said. We crouched on the second floor landing, his body covering mine. Pieces of concrete rained down around us. My heart was pounding. Adrenaline pumping through my veins. We took the remaining section at breakneck speed.

Ranger stopped short of opening the door to ground level, causing me to plow into him. He reached for the handle, his fingertips testing the door for heat. He opened it slowly. I stayed behind him. He reached for my hand, pulling me in closer. Before us, smoke. Lots of it. Ranger swiped his phone, trying to call. "Where are you?" he demanded.

The debris in the air made it difficult to breathe and harder to see. Both of us desperately searching for any signs of life. Two shapes crouched behind a steel barrier. I pointed them out to Ranger. John Saxon sat on the ground leaning against the steel pillar, using it as a shield. His gun was out and he was looking for a target. Joe was with him. He had taken his shirt off and was working it around John's leg with one hand. Ranger and I ducked down and ran over.

"I called 911. They're coming." Joe yelled. He looked towards me. "Your Jeep, Cupcake. I think someone tossed a grenade, and the alarm went off. John was too close. I tried to warn him off. Guess he hasn't been briefed about you yet."

The sound in the parking garage was deafening. Car alarms were going off in every direction making it impossible to concentrate. Everything was echoing everything else. Ranger pulled his keys out of his pocket. The garage went silent.

Joe held his arm at an odd angle. Concern washed over me in a wave. "You're hurt!" I said. I knelt down, helping him finish off the bandage for John.

Joe reached for his shoulder. "Dislocated it again. Hurts like a son of a bitch. I must have landed on it when the Jeep exploded."

It was happening again. I thought. I came back to Trenton and everything is the same. The only difference was now people were getting hurt. People were dying. I was now sure that my return had been a mistake.

Joe was watching me. "You look conflicted."

A tear ran down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, smiling. Trying to pretend everything was okay.

"This wasn't your fault." Joe said, lifting my chin so I had to look at him."This guy is insane. You didn't make him that way. Don't beat yourself up over this."

"Thank you." I said.

"For what?"

"For the "not your fault" Speech. Just thank you."

Joe mussed up my hair. "This guy is making me look bad. He is always one step ahead. I want to catch him before he does anymore damage."

I helped Joe with a makeshift sling for his arm. Keeping it immobile would make it less painful. I scanned the parking lot. What was left of my Jeep lay strewn across the garage. One of the tires had rolled across the structure floor and was leaning haphazardly against the black company SUVs. Another had landed on Ella's husband's prized red Cadillac. I grimaced. He loved that car.

John's leg bandage had already bled through parts of the makeshift wrap. It looked like a bad break. Ranger's phone went off. He picked it up with a stated "Talk to me." It must have been the team on three. As he spoke, he turned every few seconds. Watching for anything that might be a threat to us. He had one hand holding the phone, the other was hovering dangerously close to his gun holster. I heard him ask for a sweep of the area including the park. Les Sebring was still a threat. He was out there running a muck, killing people and blowing shit up. The situation was out of control. He could toss another grenade in at us at any moment. We were all at risk out in the open. He dropped the phone into his pocket and came over to help us.

"There was a second explosion." Ranger waited for acknowledgement. He checked the bandage on John's leg, and added another layer.

John's face contorted in pain when Ranger tightened up the binding. "Your Porsche." John said, pointing his finger to something behind us.

Ranger and I both turned our heads, searching. I had thought it was part of the Jeep. What was left of the Porsche was nearly unrecognizable. The force of the impact must have been amplified by the low ceiling garage. The car had blown apart. What was left of the leather interior was on fire. The rest of what used to be a high performance super sexy Black Boxster S was now twisted metal and broken glass. He had blown up my favorite ride. I would miss that car.

"It was Les Sebring." Joe said. "John and I watched him toss that second grenade. All we could do was take cover. The grenade rolled under the Porsche. He was trying to throw it at us, but his aim was off. This barrier saved us. Fucking asshole took off towards the park."

The sound of sirens were getting closer. Tank ambled towards us, cell phone held cockeyed between ear and shoulder. He had a box in his arms overflowing with medical supplies. Hal was not far behind. "Ambulance and fire won't risk vehicles coming in here until the building has been checked out. They won't walk in, either. Too dangerous. No way we can guarantee the building is safe." Tank said.

I casually looked up, searching for evidence that the building would collapse on top of us. It was a new fear. Something I had not considered, and it wasn't a good feeling. Suddenly I was slightly claustrophobic. I checked, but found nothing that seemed dangerously over stressed. The building seemed solid to me. I was hoping that safety checks were precautionary.

"The police will have the building blocked off as soon as possible. We will have to bring John and Joe out to them. Ramon found this." Tank said. He handed Ranger a legal size envelope. It was stained with grease and dirt. There was no writing on the outside that I could see. He broke the seal and pulled out a single lined piece of notebook paper. Ranger read it, then handed it to me.

The note was written on the fourth line in black ink. It was centered.

"Have you built your ship of death, O have you?

O build your ship of death, for you will need it."

I gave it back to Ranger, not wanting to hold onto the ominously toned note. It appeared to be a suggestion for me to get ready for death. It was coming. I wrapped my arms around myself, immediately feeling like being in the middle of a parking lot was a bad idea. Sebring had successfully given me the heebie jeebies.

Ranger handed the note to Joe. It's "The Ship of Death". He said. "John Herbert Lawrence wrote it. My uncle, Cecil has that poem framed on the wall. I always thought it was creepy."

Joe read the text, then folded it, putting it in his pocket. "I am not sure that Stephanie is the only target. The sooner we get this freak, the better. We could all be on his shit list."

"I can walk!" John shouted. Tank wasn't hearing it. He was on one side, Hal on the other. Together they picked him up, forcing him to hold on as they made a makeshift swing seat and walked him to the front of the building.

I stood with the men of RangeMan, watching the ambulance pull away. Joe was reluctant to go with them. He said it would be faster for him to drive. Being that he only had one good arm, the paramedics told him to get in. John's leg was braced and his arm was wrapped before they loaded him up. As the ambulance left, two wrecker trucks arrived for what was left of my Jeep and the Porsche.

"Building and Safety will be here within the hour along with a structural engineer." Ranger said. "Until they clear it, we are not suppose to be inside."

Hal looked back at the building. "I have work to do. I'm going back in." Ramon followed him. Lester and Cal followed suit. Ranger watched them go.

"I thought you said they were suppose to stay out?"

"They don't really follow the rules. Plus, does it look like the building is going to collapse? The army purposefully put us in more dangerous buildings than this to set up command posts. I am fairly certain RangeMan is secure enough to stay in."

We followed Ranger's men back into the building. Being inside had to be better than standing out in the open with a crazy grenade throwing lunatic out to get you.

I hit the button for the elevator. "You might not want to do that." Ranger said. "Just in case. Take the stairs."

Ranger, Hal and I stood in front of the security monitors. We watched Ramon pull up the CCTV video of the parking garage. The Jeep and the Porsche blew up and we viewed it from every angle. We watched it in slow motion, forwards and backwards. I watched my beloved truck scatter into a million pieces over and over again. It had survived the curse of Stephanie Plum for over a year and a half, then cablooie, it's gone. Rest in peace, little Jeep.

Ramon stopped the tape and focused in on what looked like a person's arm. He brought it in closer. I could clearly see the grenade leaving the hand, landing on the driver's side seat of the Jeep. It sat there for a moment, innocently. Then the lights flashed. The Jeep had detected something different, warning it. The horn started bellowing, and the lights flashed on and off. From the camera's angle, we watched John come into the camera frame. He was walking towards the car. Then he stopped, and dug his cellphone out of his pocket. The phone call Ranger had made, I thought. Joe entered the frame in the far right hand corner, He reaches for John. Then the Jeep explodes violently, throwing the two men out of the frame. The jeep deteriorated in front of us. From what I just saw I knew both of them were lucky to be alive.

"Holy shit." Ramon said, as he adjusted the image. He found the camera nearest to the Boxster. Again, we saw what looked like a persons arm. It clearly threw something that looked like a rock. I watched it roll under Ranger's Porsche. I could see both John and Joe dive for cover behind the steel barrier. An envelope sailed down innocently, hitting the ground. Seconds later, the Porsche was gone. It was tossed. Exploding like a fireball. Parts of it traveled in every direction.

"Go to camera twelve." Hal said. "It should be facing the opening where the first grenade came through." Ramon typed it into the computer. Camera twelve was on. I could see crime scene tape attached to the wall in the camera's live feed.

Ramon went back through the camera's memory, searching. There was a quick awkward movement on the screen and I knew he had found what he was looking for. Ramon hit play and we watched Les Sebring walk into the camera's field of view. "Holy shit." Ramon said. "There he is."

Les Sebring casually walked over to the underground garage. A small slice opening of brick was stationed about every twenty feet along this side of the building. From there, if you ducked down, you could see parts of the parking garage. It let in light and was built to be attractive. There were metal bars on all of the slices, but there was enough space between them to throw something inside. My Jeep was parked about fifteen feet from the wall. If you are a decent pitcher, you would not have any problem getting something into that front seat.

We watched Les squat down and scan the garage. He pulled something good size out of his pocket. It was the grenade. He pulled the pin and tossed it through the opening into the garage. Moments later, smoke and debris flowed through the slice window. Les Sebring was not in the frame anymore.

"Go to camera fourteen." Hal said. Ramon typed it in, and the camera feed came up. Les Sebring was there. He hunkered down in front of the opening, waiting. He pulled another grenade out of his pocket and pulled the pin. He was aiming for something. I knew that something was Joe. He threw it hard. Then he took an envelope out of his pocket and handled it so the camera could see it. Then dropped it through the opening. This was the note that Ramon found. Moments later, the camera shook with the explosion. Les Sebring was gone. Ranger copied the files and put them on a flashdrive, dropping them into his pocket.

John Saxon was taken to Saint Francis. Ranger and I stayed with him, filling out the stacks of paperwork on his behalf. Rangeman was taking full responsibility for both men. His x rays were up on the view box. I examined them. Two breaks were circled. The worst break was the fibula. The other was in his wrist. He would be going in for surgery on his leg in the morning. His wrist was going to be put into a cast after the swelling went down. He would be here for at least a few days, then transferred back to Atlanta to heal at home with his family.

By the time we left John's room, Joe had already been treated and released. Just as he had said, his shoulder was dislocated. He would need to keep it in a sling for a few weeks to let it heal. Joe left four messages on my voice mail. The main sentiment was to remind Ranger to come in. They needed his statement.

Ranger dropped me off before heading over to meet Rosewall for the interview at the station. I was nervous. I had no idea if they were going to hold him. I was hoping it was pretty obvious that Les Sebring was still alive, and he was the most likely suspect for blowing up the yacht and the people aboard, especially with what happened this morning. I walked back into the building. Ranger waited until I was safe inside before driving away. The garage echoed as the door shut behind me. It seemed to quiet. Too empty. All the vehicles had been taken in to either be washed, or repaired. The marks from the blasts were deep and dark. It would be a long time before the shadows of what happened would wash away from the lot and from our minds.

My cell phone rang as I stepped out of the shower. It was Ranger.

"Yo." I said, as I grabbed a towel.

"I'm leaving the police station now." Ranger said. "They were not happy Rosewall was with me. It made the process speed up. Two hours. I think it is a new record. There are some things lawyers are definitely good for."

"Are you coming back to the office?" I asked.

"That is up to you. I have some things I want to check out. If you come with me, I'll buy you dinner."

"What kind of dinner?"

"How about seafood? I think it is a good idea to talk to some of the locals at the marina. Maybe we will get lucky and someone will know something."

"The locals at Bayside keep to themselves." I said. "How are you going to get them to talk?"

"I was thinking of bringing a beautiful woman along that wears short skirts and bends over a lot."

I almost dropped the phone.

"I'm kidding about bending over."

"Did you hear back from the safety engineer?" I asked. "They came in with the building inspector, but told Tank they would call you."

"He cleared it. We need to patch a few things, but in his words "This building was built like a fortress. The A bomb would probably be the only thing that could bring this bitch down."

"Geez."

"His words. Not mine. Be down in ten." Ranger disconnected.

I pulled on a black scuba skirt and matching black crop top in lieu of leaning solidly on joining Ranger's motley crew. If nothing more than to feel safe until Les Sebring was caught. I slipped on some black strappy flats and spent ten minutes putting on a solid amount of makeup including mascara. I spent another five trying to get my hair to cooperate. I checked myself in the mirror. Eat your heart out, Joyce.

Ranger's truck sat idling in the empty parking garage. The big black Ford shook with power. The engine rumbled under the hood. When he had left the garage, the truck had been covered in dust, now it was spotless. Ranger probably had one of his minions pick the truck up when he went to the police station. It was detailed. Spotless. Ranger's choice of vehicles echoed the way I felt. I wanted to be in something that would protect me from scary men throwing grenades. I knew it wouldn't save us from being blown up, but it was still better than a rag top sports car.

Ranger watched me climb into the truck. His dark eyes were assessing me. "Your choice of clothing could make us late."

"You told me to wear a skirt." I said, toying with him. "You don't like it?" I thrust out my chest & pursed my lips.

Ranger's arm slid around me and with one fluid motion pulled me into his lap. His fingers slid under the folds of the skirt, resting on my upper thigh. Goosebumps ran up my arm. "Maybe, I like it too much." He said, bringing me in closer. He kissed me hungrily, his arm pulling me in closer still till I pressed against him. Fire raced to my belly, as I tried to keep my composure.

"Um, I see your point." I said, pulling back from the kiss. My temperature was rising. I was desperately trying to backpedal. I mean, wait! What was happening here? It's not like I was innocent of the backseat make-out session, but it never had happened with Ranger. Plus, there usually was a back seat involved, and darkness had a key role. This was the front seat of a truck with a stick shift and a console, and it was 3pm! I could feel my cheeks flush.

Ranger's eyes dilated to black. I knew I was in trouble. His fingers crept up my thigh a little higher. That apparently was my trigger. Suddenly, I thought it was a hell of an idea. I searched for the button to bring the seat down, but he found it first. The chair moved, reclining the back so that I was leaning into him. "Oh.." I said. Our noses nearly touching. I felt his warm breath on my skin. I could feel him against my thigh. He shifted under me.

"We never got to finish our conversation." Ranger whispered, nibbling my ear.

I bit my lip. Desire swept through me. It was difficult not to moan. "Which one?" I asked, finding my voice. My hand crept under the waistband of his black cargo pants, unbuttoning them.

He pulled my shirt up, slipping his fingers effortlessly under my push-up bra, and taking my breast in his mouth, eagerly. "Benefits."

"And you want to talk about that now?" I mumbled, as my lips caressed his.

"Yes."

But then he paused. Pulling away from me, fixing my bra, and pulling my shirt down. Smoothing it out. He picked me up and dumped me into the passenger seat, bringing the seat back up. "Business first." He said, as he drove out of the RangeMan lot and into traffic.

I closed my mouth, open from shock of being tossed. The thrill of the moment had overtaken rational sensibility. I was trying hard to compose myself, but in all honesty I couldn't just turn it off.

"What was that?" I said, trying hard to control the urge to leap back onto his lap and finish what we started.

"I'm not sure." His eyes met mine.

"How can you just turn it off?" I asked.

"Its not off. I am controlling it." Ranger said.

"So if I.."

He grabbed my hand before it reached his crotch. "No fair."

I didn't want to be fair, he started this. I moved my hand closer and he took a deep breath, and turned around. I guess there is only so much a man can control after all.

He had me back in his lap before the truck stopped moving, picking me up as if I weighed nothing. Ranger drove into a far left corner of the building, trying to avoid cameras. He set the parking brake with a jump, and shut off the engine. This was not at all like the man I knew. The Ranger I knew would have taken me upstairs and spent hours exploring my body with his tongue, and I was kind of expecting him to move in that direction. Clearly I was wrong.

"I thought this was against all your principles." I said. His mouth was on mine before I had a chance to say anything more, like wait or hold on. Ranger had made up his mind. There was no stopping or waiting or fumbling. He may not have been in control of himself, but he knew what he was doing.

With one skilled sweep, he had my skirt up and my panties down. His hand found purchase between my thighs, sliding his fingers slowly inside of me while his kiss drew more desperate. I think sugarplums started dancing in my head. Suddenly the craving to have him was beyond my ability to control. The thirst had to be quenched no matter what the consequences. I straddled him, forgetting all my ladylike manners, unbuttoning his cargo pants, releasing him from the restrictions of this clothing. Ranger's hand was on the curve of my back. Forcefully, he pulled me in closer, sliding inside of me. It happened so quickly that neither of us thought to stop. Our cardinal instincts took over. We danced. Moving to the beat of some primitive drum. Letting go of our inhibitions, and giving into what we wanted. I never thought that having sex in the front seat of a pick-up truck would ever be as torrid as this felt. I closed my eyes and let it happen.

Ranger released the buttons of my shirt one by one, and slid my bra straps down. His mouth was on my breast. I pushed my chest closer, tingling from the sensations running through me. His left hand was sliding slowly down to my ass, the other hand following suit. Soon he controlled the movements of my hips, pushing faster. There was no stopping this time. I felt him release inside of me, each spasm dove him deeper in. His mouth sliding up to my neck as he came back into control of himself.

He nuzzled up against me, holding me tight to him. I could feel his heartbeat as his lips gently touched mine in a soft surrendering kiss.

"Holy cow" I whispered, when the storm finally passed. I laid my head on his shoulder. My shirt had been torn open, my bra straps were at my elbows, my clothes in complete disarray.

Ranger held me, pulling up one of the bra straps in an impossible attempt to fix them.

"I'm blaming the catholic school girl skirt." Ranger said pulling my shirt back together.

We took the stairs up to his apartment. Ranger had mentioned that there were a few more things he would like to discuss with me upstairs. I was fairly certain that the trip to the marina was going to be postponed.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Ranger's arm snaked around my waist, drawing me in. The warmth of his body soaking into my skin as he mimicked my body's position. I snuggled in closer. He kissed my shoulder before climbing out of bed. The sound of running water soon broke the morning's calm demure. The bathroom door had been left open ever so slightly. An open invitation if I was up to it. The light from the doorway cast contrasting shadows on the walls of his bedroom, like a noir film from the past. Soon, the scent of Bulgari floated through the air. I closed my eyes, drifting back to sleep.

In what seemed like moments I woke to the perturbing sound of my cell phone. It's obnoxious vibrations echoed through the room as it rumbled uneasily on the nightstand. I covered my head with a pillow. I had been dreaming. In my dream I was finally a superhero. I was 'Lint Girl'. Anywhere dust bunnies lurked, I could transform into 'Lint Girl'. When the bad guys attacked, I could blow lint in their faces and make them sneeze. In the dream, I was coming to terms with my own powers; as obscure as they were. The distraction of the consistent noise uprooted what had been a great new respect for the debris under the refrigerator. I tried to bring it back, but it rolled away like smoke in the wind.

Finally, the phone stopped vibrating, only to begin again almost instantaneously. My arm reached over, creeping onto the table. Refusing to move my head from under the pillow, I searched blindly for the piece of technology that everyone wanted, but no one really needed. It dropped. For a moment I was relieved. 'Maybe I broke it, and it will shut up'. I thought. It continued its vibrating dance on the floor below. If Ranger had carpet, it wouldn't have been so bad, but the man had put hardwood floors in his apartment. I grabbed it with contempt and read the caller ID. It was Joe.

I checked the time. 6am. What the hell did he want?

"Lo?" I said. That was as good as I can do at six in the morning. If you want a true hello, I need coffee first.

"Guess I woke you up."

I scrunched the covers up around myself and sat up. "Guess you did. Who died?"

"No one died." Joe said, sarcastically. His tone was borderline amused. I considered hanging up, but my brain was rolling slowly toward a 'need to know' phase. It had to be pretty important to risk an early morning phone call to an ex girlfriend. My eyes started to droop. Just a few more minutes... My only hope was that 'Lint Girl' would come back so I could talk some sense into her. There had to be a better way to fight the evil in the world. Lint might not be the best option. I thought we might need a back up plan.

"Hey!"

My eyes popped back open.

"Wake the fuck up!" Joe screamed.

"This better be good." I said, yawning.

"Cupcake, I am always good. Especially in the morning, you know that."

I looked down at the phone, confused. "Flirting with an ex girlfriend? I could use this against you Joe Morelli. Waking me up at this ungodly hour may just make me do some terrible things to your love life. Trisha would not be happy." I said this with the slurred vocabulary of a drunken sailor woken up from a stupor. My mouth moved like slow molasses.

"This is nowhere near flirting." Joe said. "I had to call before I got to work. Meet me for lunch, and bring your boyfriend. I have some things that you might be interested in, and some information that you need to hear."

"What kinds of things?"

"Things I can't talk about on the phone, Cupcake. Perspectives are changing at work. I think we all need to get together and talk about it."

"Where do you want to meet?"

"It needs to be someplace different." Joe said.

"The Bear Pit?"

"One O'clock". Joe disconnected.

Suddenly I wasn't sleepy anymore.

The Bear Pit BBQ and Steak House was famous, but not for the ribs, or the steak. Although I can personally vouch for both being the best in New Jersey. The Bear Pit was famous for being the place to keep your secret meetings, secret. A cloak and dagger meeting could be anything from an affair with a co worker, boyfriend or mistress, to a judge taking bribes. If you needed to be sneaky, The Pit was the place to go. If someone didn't know where it was located, they were probably on the opposing end of the information chain for good reason, and it was better if they stayed there. Jersey had a dark side, but it needed a light side to make it all stick together. It was a 'locals only' type place. They never had to advertise. The place was always busy. They opened their doors at eleven in the morning, and closed after 2am. It was part of the underground that made this state so great.

The dark ominous square building sat in the center of a moat blacktop parking lot. It was in an old industrial part of town, where the buildings were made of bricks that dated back into the early 1900's. It was the only structure with no graffiti on its walls. Faux white decorative shutters adorned the windows that sat seven feet from the ground. On the inside, these windows were covered by thick lightproof red velvet curtains.

According to legend, There was a back entrance that remained locked on the inside by a steel bar. Completely against fire code. They only opened this door for deliveries. The clientele that came in here appreciated this. Only having one way in, made things a lot more discrete. They could focus on the front door. It gave the patrons a sense of security. If that back door was left unbarred; there was a good reason. Jimmy Katz found that out the hard way. He was having an affair with Tony 'T-Bone' Russo's seventeen year old boy. Not exactly the type of thing you want anyone to know about. His kid was not only under age, but Tony was taking advantage of the uncomfortable situation. He was planning on blackmailing Jimmy. Telling him no one would have any respect for him if they knew his boy was a pansy. What Tony didn't know was that Jimmy Katz had accepted his kid's lifestyle and was okay with it. He fully supported his kids decision to be what he wanted to be as long as he stayed away from little perverted assholes like Tony. Jimmy didn't take to kindly to the way Tony manipulated the situation or his family. That was the only time I knew that the back door was left unbarred. From what I hear, Tony was never heard from again. Rumor has it that a new concrete floor was laid down in the basement of The Bear Pit that week. This was, of course never confirmed, but my friend Marcus works for the Fire Marshall. He told me that when ever they do inspections on the buildings in that area, The Pit is always passed up.

The Bear Pit was unique for a lot of reasons. But the sign was the thing that always got me. On the top of the roof was a blue neon cartoon character of a bear. At night you could see an animated paw swipe at the red neon arrow pointing downwards. When I was a kid, I always thought it was pointing towards hell, but I think it was pointing down at the building itself. Either way, maybe it meant the same thing.

I checked the time on my cell phone. Joe was already ten minutes late. We took the booth in the corner, deep in the back of the restaurant. The darkest corner in the place. Ranger's choice. I bet he was the kid who always sat in the back of the bus, too. That seat was the key position. Every kid wanted that seat. It was long. It stretched from one side of the bus to the other. If you sat right in the center, you could watch everyone load and unload off the bus. I could see a mini Ranger in the center. Watching everyone get on, and everyone get off. No one behind him putting gum in his hair, or posting a 'kick me' sign on his back. You had to wonder where his obsession for this type of behavior stemed from. It could have been from the school bus, I thought. It made perfect sense. These were things that rolled around my brain when we were held up together somewhere waiting on someone who was late.

The lighting was dim inside the restaurant. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The carpet was like that of a casino floor. Elaborate mixtures of red, white and black designs. The booths had been redone recently in a red sparkle vinyl like a speedboat, and the walls were painted off white. I remembered the last time I had been here with my parents. It had to have been fifteen years since. My dad loved the ribs. No matter what the reputation was, it was his birthday, so we piled into the station wagon and took the trip across town. I remember how dark the place was. I also remembered the booths were red. Not sparkly like they are now.

Ranger sat with his back to the wall. He was one cool cat. His leg was casually thrown onto the red vinyl booth chair. His arm on the dark thickly shellacked oak table, fingers rapping out some unheard tune in his head. His eyes never left the front entrance of the restaurant.

I sat across from him, trying to look as cool as he did. I also had my back to the wall, but it was hard to hold that position in a skirt. Finally, I gave up and put my leg down, taking a sip of my Cherry Coke. I had asked for three extra cherries, and they floated precariously at the top of the ice in my glass.

Ranger had given me the eye when I ordered, raising his eyebrow in discontent with my decision. I knew the look. He had three eyebrow raising looks he gave me. The 'holy shit, I can't believe you got away with that' eyebrow, The eyebrow that I get when I do something sexy that he really likes, and then there was this one. Which meant, 'you think you really need three extra cherries?' I chose to ignore the eyebrow. I would run an extra mile for three extra cherries if I had to.

He ordered a water with lemon. Maybe Cherry Coke was not something that a hard-boiled bounty hunter would order. If you wanted my opinion, he was missing out on a lot of the good things in life with his tough guy image.

Ranger's mouth tightened. I knew Joe must have walked in. "He's here." He said.

I turned to look. Joe was at the bar. He was talking to the bartender. The man took a beer from under the counter, flipped the top off with an opener and handed it over. Joseph Morelli never dressed like a cop. Although there was really no doubt about what he did for a living. He looked like a cop no matter what he wore. Today he chose a white T-shirt and black jeans. Sometimes I wondered if he knew how handsome he was. It wasn't like he put any effort into it. It was the luck of the draw in his family. None of his brothers had moved past the stone age with their looks, but Joe, he was the golden boy. He somehow was given all the good qualities of the Morelli genes and didn't leave any extras for anyone else.

He was oblivious to what others thought of him, like he had blinders on. I secretly wondered if he marveled at himself in the mirror every morning. When I lived with him, he didn't. As a matter of fact, he rarely looked at himself at all unless he was brushing his teeth or getting ready to go out. I know if I was him, I would have had a hard time stepping away from the mirror. Especially naked. Joe's arm was in a sling, and he was wearing a back brace. His police badge hung around his neck. I watched him scan the room, setting his sights on us. As he walked over, a few patrons shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Having the law in here was too close for comfort. A few people waived for their bills. Others sunk lower in their chairs. Joe took no notice. His eyes were focused only on our table.

Joe swung a chair around from the table across from us and took a seat, dropping a coaster down and placing his beer on it. Before he could speak, a girl no older than seventeen swooped in, menus in hand. She was cleverly dressed like a wench from a Renaissance festival. We ordered ribs, all around. We were children of tradition. I was pretty sure I wasn't the only kid who was brought to this strange establishment. My father would whisper about the contemptible things that were believed to have happened here. Most of it, probably just myth in itself, but it was our own little piece of 1950's Hollywood right here in Trenton. My parents were secretly proud to have such a notorious place nearby. I was told by my father that I had to order the ribs. I wasn't even allowed to look at the menu for a second. Even Ranger knew the rules. Ordering a salad here would be like ordering a Corona at Oktoberfest. It just wasn't done.

He waited till the teenage trollop was out of ear shot, and took a swig of his beer before speaking. "I'm officially off the Sebring case. Foster went to the captain and said I was hindering the investigation by leading them down paths that were not credible. Jones concurred."

Ranger shifted in his seat. The mood of this get together clearly changed from relaxed to stressed. All of us keenly aware of the implications of that kind of move. Pulling Joe from the game could only mean one thing. They believed Sebring had died on the boat. No one believed us. They thought someone else was responsible for the things that had been happening. Ranger would be a prime suspect. My mind swam with ways they could implicate not only him, but the entire Rangeman crew. I suppose they could find ways to involve all of us.

Les Sebring had been such a prominent roll model for Trenton. He had given hundreds of thousands of dollars to make the city better. He had helped build the police headquarters and the fire station. He had given money to charities, hospitals, and clubs for the youth. There was no way this city was going to let his name be dragged through the mud unless there was solid proof. The department would protect that legacy. I took a sip of Coke and ate all three cherries in hopes the sugary goodness could help make me feel better somehow.

"Both of those idiots started getting secretive." Joe said. "I thought something strange was going on, but I let it go. I know how partners become brothers. After the bombing in the garage, when I got hurt at Rangeman, that is when things really went south. I wrote up a report stating I had seen Les Sebring. He had thrown the grenades. They went to my captain together. The little bastards requested that I back up. I wasn't expecting it. Total surprise." Joe said.

"What did your captain say was the problem? Did he give you a reason? Ranger asked.

"Foster told my captain that my opinions were biased. That because I was friends with one of the suspects, they couldn't trust me to keep my mouth shut anymore. The captain added that now that I was a victim, and a witness I shouldn't be on the case anyway for any reason. Staying on could damper the credibility of my testimony and sway my judgment. It's total bullshit."

Joe took another pull on his beer, finishing it. "What pisses me off the most is that they wont listen to me when I tell them they are making a mistake. Sebring is alive. My captain thinks they're are right. And I quote, 'Right now, you are charging an innocent deceased civilian of crimes they can no longer defend themselves against.' I guess the fact that I watched Les Sebring throw the grenade doesn't count for much anymore."

Joe leaned back in the chair, obviously angry about the events and that his department had dismissed him so quickly. I knew he was a good cop. He didn't deserve this.

"They have all my reports and they know where to find me if they need anything else. Guess there is not a lot more I can do except wait for them to pull their heads out of their ass. They need to start looking for Sebring, like yesterday."

"They aren't even looking for him?" I asked. My voice squeaked in disbelief.

Joe shook his head. "Nope. He's dead, remember? The autopsy was inconclusive, if you want to call it an autopsy. The body was so badly burned, there was nothing really left. Sebring is dead. That is the determination at the station. No one really wants to hear anything else about it. Right now, they are working on a theory that you blew up your man and tried to kill me. The testimony you gave about knowing what happened on the boat only makes the report stronger."

Ranger was quiet, but I saw his jaw tighten with the news that all his testimony was going to be used against him.

"I've been assigned to desk duty till this all blows over. I don't appreciate those two bozos claiming that I didn't know what Les Sebring looked like. It was him. Not only do we have the accounts, but also the video images. They looked at it, but said that they would need an expert to make sure it wasn't doctored. I threw the files across the room. I think that is when they decided to take me off the case."

"I can't believe this is happening." I said. "We have him on tape. We have threatening letters, we have eye witness accounts that he is still alive. Still they want to put all of it on Ranger?"

"I just got my new orders. That's why I was late. I also have a write up in my personnel file because I was violent with the detectives. Next time it happens, I am transferred out."

I was stunned. Joe could be transferred, and Ranger could be arrested at any moment. I wonder if Les Sebring knew just how much chaos ensued from his little hat trick. Jeanne, the boat, and the garage. Maybe he had been the puppeteer all along.

Joe took a white sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. He unfolded it and dropped it on the table in front of me. "There is more good news, Cupcake. Brace yourself. This is the lab report from the ripped photo found in the park."

I picked it up and started reading.

No fingerprints that were useful. Smudged. The writing on the picture said 'I'm always watching'.

"I'm always watching?" I said out loud. "What is that suppose to mean?"

Joe dropped a photocopy of a taped together photograph of me onto the table. It had been ripped into tiny pieces when it was found. I felt the color drain out of my face as I recognized where this picture was taken. The image was of me. I was facing the camera. It was a web cam image from a laptop. The laptop inside Ranger's apartment.

Ranger leaned in, looking carefully at the picture. "He hacked into the system upstairs and shot the picture while you were online." Ranger took a deep breath before he continued. "I will talk to Ramon. Our system security should have prevented anything like this from happening. I need to have all the systems checked." He slid his chair out and stood, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'm calling this in."

Ranger quickly walked away. I knew he would want to deal with this in private. Joe and I both watched him. He opened the front door and walked out of the restaurant. The light from outside snuck in, the booths temporarily lit up from the glare, bringing it out of the darkness only to be sunk back in as the door closed.

"Manoso keeps getting pulled back into this." Joe said. "First with Jeanne's murder, and now he is being fingered for the deaths on the boat and for the incident in the garage. Either Sebring really hates both of you, or Manoso really is behind it all.

"What are you saying? That there is a possibility that Ranger did all of this himself?"

"This is what I think. Either Sebring is after you for what he believes you did to change his destiny, or he is after Manoso for the same reason. The only other possibility is … Now, hear me out on this."

I slumped back in my chair. I knew where this was going, and I didn't like it.

"What if Ranger actually did the boat and the garage?" Joe asked.

"He was with me when the garage blew up." I said defiantly.

"Okay, but what if there were more than one person helping him?"

"Do you seriously want me to believe that?"

"No. But that is the conversation that is being passed around the station. Manoso and his crew have been working hard to cover up the Sebring family murders. It is all about revenge. Les Sebring killed Jeanne Ellen Burrows. Payback is a bitch."

"That seems a little far fetched." I said.

"But is it?" Joe asked. "Manoso had one thing on his mind when he left the jail. He was going after Sebring. I knew what he was doing, and I let him go. I lie awake at night thinking about what a stupid move that was. If I would have kept him until morning, none of this would be happening. Les picked the perfect time to blow that boat up."

"Too perfect I you ask me." I said. "What if someone tipped him off. Sebring wanted Ranger to take the fall for this. Just like he wanted him to take the fall for Jeanne. Who else knew that he was getting out early?"

"Juniak signed the order, as a favor to Ranger. The captain knew about it, and a few of the cops were there when it went down."

"Who knew Sebring personally?"

"Mayor Juniak has been known to sit at the same table at events. My captain does also. I don't know if you would call them friends but Sebring gives a lot of money to the police department, and he funds plenty of programs for the city. I think that puts them both in tight with him. I doubt any of the cops knew him personally, but I can find out."

"Either of them could have easily tipped Sebring off. Warning him that Ranger was getting out."

"If that happened, was it to warn Sebring that we might become a suspect, or to let him know that Manoso had a chip on his shoulder and was out for revenge?"

"Maybe both." I said.

"Fingers keep pointing back at your buddies at Rangeman. I think Sebring knows this. It won't surprise me if he starts leaving evidence that implicates the whole team. It seems to me that he is fucking with Manoso's world. If I were him, I would be losing my shit right about now. Did you see how his jaw tightened when I told him what was happening? I'm surprised he didn't break a tooth."

Joe tried for a the drag of his beer, and put it down. "If I go back to the station and implicate either Juniak or my captain for conspiring with Sebring, I will lose my job. The most I can do is to find out who knew Sebring and who knew Manoso was being released early. Other than that, I have to keep my nose clean. I am between a rock and a hard place."

"Les Sebring is alive. I just have to prove it."

"No, Manoso needs to prove it. You need to be careful."

"I will be careful."

You don't get it Stephanie. This guy isn't playing. He will kill you. Not because you have been a pain in the ass, he will kill you because it will destroy Ranger. It would be the ultimate revenge."

"Revenge? You think Sebring is after Ranger because of Jeanne? I thought we already went through this. Ranger didn't kill Jeanne."

In Sebring's twisted little brain he might as well have. Seeing Ranger leave Jeanne's house triggered the lunatic to come forward and murder her. He probably blames your little boy toy for that happening. Maybe he believes it was Ranger's fault that he killed her. Hell, he might think Ranger did it. He is nuts. He might not even remember killing her. He could have made up a story in his head that implicates Ranger. He probably also blames him for what he did to his family. The guy apparently has gone completely over the edge. Your life to him doesn't matter. What does matter is destroying your boyfriend. He knows Ranger will loose it if you get killed. I think that is what he wants."

"What if someone was trying to kill you. Would you just hide out until someone else solved your problem?"

"That's different."

"How is it different?

"I'm not you."

"What? What is that suppose to mean?" I said defiantly. I was a little rattled with what he had said. I sat up straighter in my chair, and my chauvinistic pig radar was on full alert.

"It means that you fly way to close to the flame. You are like a battering ram. You charge into things. You get hurt. You get kidnapped. You get shot. You also land in all kinds of garbage. All I am saying is let someone else solve this one."

"That is bullshit, Joe. I can find this guy."

"There is no doubt that you could find him. Just do the cyber spy thing. Stay in that fortress of that building as much as possible and don't throw a red flag at the bull. Don't give that asshole any opportunities. He'll grab you. There is going to be a 24/7 surveillance on Manoso and his crew of misfits. No surprise there, but you didn't hear that from me. As it is, I am walking a fine line with my captain. My opinion as of late is not a popular one. I am going to get suspended if I don't butt out. "

Racks of ribs sat smoldering in front of us. A small dinner salad came with them. I guess they wanted to balance everything out. A loaf of fresh bread, sliced and warm sat on a separate plate next to a large slab of real butter. I guess if you are going to get bad news, it is better to wash it down with a worthy meal.

Joe signaled for a to go box. He hadn't even touched his food. "I gotta get back to work." Joe said. "They are going to want to talk to you. You're on top of the list of people they want to interview."

"What could I possibly tell them that they don't already know?"

"You are directly involved with this entire investigation, Cupcake. You know the suspect, you know Sebring, You are a key player in this whole jumbled cluster fuck. There are plenty of reasons. Just be available."

Ranger walked back into the restaurant as Joe stood picking up the box of ribs. "You will need to discuss this between yourselves." Joe said. "I need to get back and see if my job is still secure. I'll text you if anything interesting happens." Joe left, carrying the doggie bag of food.

I watched him as he walked up to the cashier and paid the bill.

"What did I miss?" Ranger sat back down and slid over to his spot next to the wall, like it was his own occupied space. He slid a plate of ribs over, and began the cutting ritual. I think they should give you little plastic gloves to eat ribs. Ranger, of course had minimal bbq splatter on his hands as he cut. Me, I had BBQ sauce everywhere. Even under my fingernails. If it wasn't for the complimentary bib, my shirt would have been covered before I began to eat. My lap too.

I recounted most of what Joe had told me as we ate. Including the theory of how Sebring is out for revenge. That the lead detectives are leaning dangerously close to the conclusion that Ranger was responsible for not only the murders on the boat but also blowing up the cars in his own garage and leaving the note to make it look like Les Sebring had done these things himself. Ranger took hold of another rib, watching me as I told the story.

"What does Morelli think?" Ranger asked.

"He believes it was Sebring that threw the grenades. He saw him. 95% sure."

"And the other five percent?"

"Same as the detectives. There is always that possibility that this was all a ploy to get you off the hook for the revenge killing of Sebring. That it has been you all along. Trying to backpedal, making everyone believe Sebring is alive.

He thinks the most probable scenario is that Sebring hates you. He has been framing you from the beginning."

"So he thinks Sebring blames me for loosing his noodle? Interesting theory."

"Joe said that they are going to want to talk to me."

"I would be surprised if they didn't. You and I have been front runners in this investigation from day one. When I went into the police precinct yesterday with Rosewall I got the impression that it was suppose to be a break down interview- you know, uncomfortable chairs, bad lighting, no bathroom breaks, bad breath blown into your face for hours. None of that would fly with my attorney sitting there. I expect Joe will be on leave by the end of the week."

"It's possible someone might have tipped off Sebring about getting out of jail early."

"Like who?"

"Someone who knew him personally, maybe."

"Who knew I was getting out?"

"Joe, Rosewall,Juniak, the chief of police, and a few cops that had been there when it happened."

Ranger picked up one of the ribs from the plate in front of him, taking the sharp knife to cut it from the rack. I followed suit. We ate in silence. Both stuck in our own thoughts about what implications that had been put out on the table. It almost seemed impossible that the department would think Joe was leading them down a false path and even more incredible to believe that the detectives would believe that Ranger was a suspect.

"Joe will go nuts if they put him on leave." I said, thinking aloud. I took another rib. I had already devoured two. But they were so good. I had to have at least one more.

"It would be good for him. Joe should take some time off. He has a baby coming. Trisha should too. They won't get a lot of free time once he or she is here." Ranger said.

"He might not feel that way. He said he needs to work." I said. "If he is put on leave, maybe he could freelance with us."

Ranger glanced up from the rib. "Us?" He stopped eating and waited for me to answer him. His eyebrows were raised in anticipation. It was the number one position in Ranger eyebrow moves.

I suppose I had already come to terms with the whole scenario of working along side the men of Rangeman. I took another bite of the rib, trying to stall as I thought about it a little more. I wasn't really thinking he was listening all that well, but his spidey sense must have been working over time.

I cleared my throat. "Okay, so I have decided to take you up on your offer, temporarily."

Ranger dropped the bone on his plate, and cut another one. He leaned back against the wall.

"That won't do. It's not a temporary position. If your in, your in."

"What, like a gang? I said sarcastically. "Do I need to cut my finger and sign my name in blood, like the Illuminati?"

"Maybe." Ranger said, cocking his head to the side. "I would have to check with Tank and Hal."

"Seriously?" It was my turn to raise my eyebrows.

Ranger put down the bone he was gnawing on, and wiped his fingers with the wet towel the waitress had so gratefully handed us. "Okay, seriously. Its not something that you can float back and forth into. It is a commitment to the team, to the company. My security company. I will jealousy defend it. I need you to feel the same way. You would be a partner, as in you would own part of the company. Not temporarily. Partners stay. But I promise we won't jump you in or make you eat feces."

I pushed my plate away. Maybe I would get the rest of this to go. I took a deep breath. "Okay, so what does it entail then?"

"If you are seriously considering partnering with us, then I need to call a meeting. Hal and Tank need to be there. Then we can discuss it."

"Not now? Can't you at least give me an idea of what I would be getting myself into?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because some things are worth waiting for."

I stayed downstairs on three and worked on one of the company computers that didn't have a webcam. The whole "I'm watching you" thing had successfully freaked me out. I decided to start by making a fake Facebook account. Then I went into all the boating groups and asked to join. It might take a few days for anyone to approve me. I shut down the computer. The boating community would welcome a fellow seafarer with open arms. I just had to wait for the approval.

I took the stairs back up to the apartment. Ranger was in his bedroom, there was a duffel bag on the bed. It was open, half packed. A manila folder sat on the bed. The flap turned down and bracketed. He was quietly going through the drawers of his dresser. The silence sliced through me like I had been stabbed in the heart.

"Are you leaving?" The volume of my voice cascaded slightly upward as I panicked before the last word had hit my lips. Earlier Joe had called in to tell us that he had been officially suspended. He said that when he came back from lunch, it had already been set in motion. They had found a tooth in the debris from the wreckage of the boat. Apparently he was the only one to question how one tooth made a dead man. That was the straw that broke the camels back. They told him to take some time off. Maybe Trisha's pregnancy was causing him to be irrational. Joe let me know that there were papers on the chiefs desk to formally arrest Ranger.

"I'm not leaving Trenton." Ranger said quietly. "I have a choice. I can sit in a jail cell and let my life and my business die in front of me, or I can do something about it. I'm choosing the proactive approach. I tried it their way, and now I am accused of not only Jeanne's murder but also the murders of Les Sebring and his family. I need to do things my way. I have ran out of friends at the department. I'm going to be in the wind for a while. Tank and the team know what to do."

Ranger dropped clothes and socks into the bag and zipped it up. "You will be safe if you stay here. If you go wandering around trying to solve this for me, he will kill you. Then all will be lost, and he will have won."

I was frantic. I didn't want him to leave. "It doesn't all have to be about you, Ranger. When the police find out you are gone, It will take all their doubts away. It will prove to them that you are guilty. They will put out a warrant. If they find you, they might kill you."

He flung the duffel over his shoulder, watching me. "They won't kill me. I won't give them a reason. I need to clear my name, babe. I am running out of options. If Joe is right, they are going to arrest me. By the time they figure this shit out, Sebring will probably have not only killed you, but he may go after my family. He might even go after your family. I have to do this."

"Then I am coming with you."

Ranger laughed. "No way."

"Why not? You can stop that arrogant libido driven desperado act, too. I can help you."

He dropped the duffel and instantly overpowered me. He picked me up by my waist and kicked my legs out from underneath me,dropping me onto the bed. I struggled as he pulled my arms up above my head and held them there with only one arm. His leg held both of mine,trapped beneath him. His body leaned heavily on mine, keeping me still. As much as I tried, I couldn't move. His face was inches from mine.

"You can't go with me."

Twenty minutes later we were in the sewers. The papers were drawn up and signed. Rangeman was now officially in Tank and Hal's name. God, I hated the sewer. What in the hell was I thinking?


End file.
